


Sweet Puppy

by RazetheAxolotl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Consent Issues, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Romance, Harry is not a Werewolf, Horcrux Hunting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Mates, Mild Gore, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Porn With Plot, Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Problematic Romance, Rape Roleplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rewrite, Rimming, Scenting, Size Difference, Unhealthy Relationships, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Politics, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazetheAxolotl/pseuds/RazetheAxolotl
Summary: Harry, on the hunt for Horcruxes, literally stumbles into Fenrir Greyback and turns out to be his mate because everything happens to Harry."Sweet Puppy" was originally written and posted to AFF by me under a different pen name back in 2005. I have removed it from that site. The story is currently being re-worked and will hopefully be finished… one day. This is my attempt at a mostly canon-compliant erotic novel





	1. The Ways of the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains non-consensual sex between a 17 year old (underage in some countries) and a grown man in the first chapter, followed later by extremely dubious consensual sex, which eventually turns into extremely enthusiastic consensual sex. This would obviously be extremely illegal and problematic in real life. If anything about this content presented in the form of erotic fiction is troubling for you, please do not read. You have been warned.

Harry ran as fast as he could, ignoring the branches swiping at his face and the brambles ripping his clothing. He wasted no breath shouting curses, instead pointing his wand randomly over his shoulder and concentrating as hard as he could on silent jinxes and curses.

Nothing was working – he could still hear harsh, beastly panting close behind him… much too close.

Harry knew he shouldn’t have been out alone, but he had been so _sure_ that a Horcrux had been in that cave. Amongst all the possessions Harry had inherited after Sirius’ death, there had been a journal belonging to Regulus Black, the brother of his godfather, detailing the cave that Harry had spent weeks searching for. It was one of the few places the man had mentioned as a safe hideout from Voldemort, and he had written about possibly concealing the locket there. The clues were practically handed to Harry, the victory seemingly absolute. Other members of the Order were scheduled to join Harry tomorrow to help him, but Harry couldn’t wait. He wanted to impress them, to have something to show for the several months of fruitless searching, but now he was regretting his actions deeply.

Harry had not discovered a Horcrux in the cave that Regulus Black had written of. Instead he had literally stumbled upon a sleeping Fenrir Greyback, who was no longer asleep.

“C’mon!” Harry yelled out of sheer frustration to his fatigued body. His legs were quickly becoming numb with exhaustion and his chest was heaving.

“Ha!” came a barked shout from behind him. “You want me to catch you now, boy? And take all the fun out of it? Well, if you insist!”

A roar filled Harry’s ears. The sound of crashing branches behind him increased, and only seconds later, a huge, heavily muscled body crashed into him and he was shoved off his feet and into the dirt. His wand flew out of his sweaty palm and his glasses were knocked off his face.

“No!” Harry shouted, scrambling against the ground.

“Oh, yes,” the man straddling his body growled. “I should take you to the Dark Lord…yes, I should…get me some gold for my troubles… but he’s not my Lord, is he? No…I’m the Lord of the werewolves, and he can’t stop me from having a little snack first….”

Greyback was rambling above him, sounding drunk and mad. Harsh breath blasted the back of Harry’s already sweltering neck, and Harry flinched. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and stung his eyes.

“Has anyone told you, Potter? I’ve got a sweet tooth for the little ones,” the werewolf rasped. Clawed, cruel hands took hold of Harry’s wrists, and the man flexed his thighs around Harry’s own, effectively trapping him. “I like ‘em during the Full Moon, the New Moon, and every night in between….”

Harry cringed at the sound of a tongue licking sharp teeth next to his ear – the slurping of saliva was audible and obscene. He frantically began to struggle and shouted every curse he could, wand or no wand.

The werewolf laughed above him, loud and grating. “Won’t work, boy. Your kiddie spells bounce right off me. I could’ve taken on Dumbledore if I felt like it.”

“No you couldn’t,” Harry burst out defiantly before he could stop himself.

Greyback growled low in his throat. Harry winced as the grip around his wrists tightened.

“You’re in no position to debate me, boy,” said Greyback menacingly. “You may be pretty but you won’t be when I’m through with you…you’ll be just like that Weasley I took care of.” He concluded his statement with a bestial snarl, then lowered his jaws to the back of Harry’s neck, spittle landing in his unruly hair.

Harry shut his eyes in defeat, preparing for the pain. He would be mauled, just like Ron’s brother Bill, then Greyback would surely take him to Voldemort. No one was coming to save him. He’d failed Dumbledore, failed everyone. He would be dead soon, joining his parents and godfather.

It took a moment for Harry to notice that Greyback hadn’t bitten him yet. He opened his eyes in confusion and heard a loud inhalation right next to his ear, then pungent breath hit the side of his face.

“What’s this?” the werewolf grunted.

Harry kept still, uncertainty mingling with fear. Greyback inhaled deeply again, then plunged his nose into Harry’s messy hair, snuffling and snorting just like Hagrid’s boarhound Fang did whenever he thought Harry might have treats in his pockets.

“It can’t be,” Greyback growled above him. Harry froze when he felt the man’s broad, rough tongue suddenly swipe across the back of his sweaty neck. He began to tremble. The werewolf was going to bite him now, surely…following that searing tongue would be sharp teeth that would rip his skin faster than his Firebolt could turn.

Greyback was now making a low sound in his chest that almost sounded like a purr, then he pressed his entire body on top of Harry’s own, his mouth right next to Harry’s ear. The werewolf was extremely heavy and his hot breath was like a furnace against Harry’s face.

“It’s your lucky day, Potter,” said Greyback, licking his sharp teeth again. “You’ve got a scent about you, boy. You smell delicious.”

Harry shut his eyes tight. Something about Greyback's tone made goosebumps raise on his skin. He clenched his teeth as the man nuzzled at his ear and licked a slow, wet path up his cheek.

“Mmm,” the werewolf groaned appreciatively. “You taste exquisite too. Did that Lupin ever explain the ways of the wolf to you?” Greyback chuckled deep in his throat against his ear and his hips began to shift on top of Harry. “Wolves find their mates by smell, boy. It won’t last with anyone else… and you smell good to me. Damn good.”

Harry bit his lip, mentally shaking his head. This couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. The werewolf laughed above him, like he’d just heard a joke, then he suddenly thrust his pelvis against Harry’s backside. Harry couldn’t suppress the shocked gasp that escaped his throat and a wave of nausea hit his stomach.

“Yes, boy. You understand what I’m saying now. I always thought you were a quick one.”

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir’s lips pulled back in a predatory grin as he began to undulate against the prone boy beneath him, his strong thighs sliding to pin the boy’s considerably smaller frame. He shoved his hips against the boy’s ass again, getting a whimper out of him. Fenrir laughed and he leaned forward to lick a trickle of sweat from the boy’s neck, moaning and smacking his lips at the salty taste. He exhaled against the boy’s moistened skin as his werewolf cock swelled rapidly. The irresistible smell and taste of sweat, dirt, fear, and innocence was making him dizzy with pleasure. Fenrir was familiar with those scents and flavors – it was the exact combination that drew him to his prey – but this was special and more intense than he had ever experienced. The difference came from knowing _instinctively_ that the body trembling underneath him was rightfully his to do with as he pleased, not simply a babe who didn’t listen to their mother and got lost in his woods. This child, his mate, was a gift from the Mother Moon herself.

Fenrir smiled. He planned to thoroughly enjoy the unwrapping.

 

*            *            *

 

The werewolf’s movements were becoming stronger, more aggressive. Harry winced as his front was pushed into the hard ground littered with rocks. He focused on the sharp edges of the rocks with all his might so that he didn’t have to think about the heat radiating against his backside, or the incredibly thick pressure that could only be the man’s erection.

“Mmm, but isn’t this perfect, pup? Our first joining, in my forest, right under the light of the Mother Moon,” sighed Greyback, sounding perversely like a lovesick teenager. “How wonderful.”

The werewolf then lowered his teeth to the back of Harry’s shirt and easily tore the fabric to shreds. Harry resumed his struggle, a frustrated whine escaping his lips when he made little progress.

“Ah, you definitely are my mate, Potter. How else would you know that I love when my prey resists? Or the taste of young tears?”

“I’m not crying,” Harry spat, continuing to wriggle underneath the bulk on top of him. Greyback released one of his hands and Harry let out a triumphant shout as blood began to flow back into his fingers. His surge of excitement immediately left him as he realized Greyback was removing his own robes, the sound of fabric rustling loud in the forest around them.

“No,” said Harry.

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir growled in pleasure and clawed the pitiful remains of Harry’s shirt from his body, revealing a fragile looking snow-white back with sharp shoulder blades moving frantically beneath his mate’s pale skin. Fenrir gripped the boy’s biceps, his expansive hands easily holding him down, and he lowered his broad tongue to the top of the boy’s spine and dragged it down slowly, relishing the boy’s panicked huffs. When his tongue reached the top of the boy’s loose denim jeans, he sunk his teeth into the fabric and tugged down at the waistband until white, thin underwear revealed itself. He lifted himself off of the boy long enough to yank down the ripped jeans and release his own rigid cock from the confines of his wizarding robes before he tossed them away. With a delighted grunt, Fenrir shoved the boy’s bare thighs apart with a knee before settling down atop the squirming boy again, immediately resuming his thrusts against his mate’s lovely ass. He snaked his arms under and around the boy’s chest and began to lap at the collecting sweat on the back of the boy’s neck. He couldn’t resist grazing his canines across the pale skin, leaving bright red scratches. His mate cried out and Fenrir’s cock jumped at the sound, pressed snuggly between the boy’s cheeks. This was pure heaven.

 

*            *            *

 

Harry couldn’t remember feeling more helpless, not even when Dumbledore died, when he couldn’t stop Snape from killing him, stuck frozen by a spell. Once again he couldn’t fight this man, this beast, only this time he didn’t have the excuse of a spell immobilizing him. Harry dug his fingers into the dirt, desperate for some sort of hold, but the werewolf on top of him was too heavy, too strong, and whenever he tried to move he only succeeded in being pressed harder into the earth. He had whimpered when his thighs were kicked apart, and gagged with fear when he felt the man’s hot erection settle against his behind. Harry wasn’t naïve. He knew exactly what the creature was planning to do, and the lump in his throat was getting closer to his mouth and he couldn’t hold back a sob of fear when he felt teeth rake against his skin. Hot breath skittered across his neck and shoulder, and the man’s erection seemed to pulse against him.

“No,” Harry whispered again, knowing it would do nothing.

“Oh yes, my sweet puppy,” Greyback groaned in his ear. “Cry all you want. I like the sound very much.”

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir sucked at the boy’s neck and shoulder, then slid his hand down the slender boy’s side, enjoying the shivers his nails produced. He tangled his claws in the boy’s underwear, then slipped the fabric off and down the boy’s ass, lifting himself so that he could admire his mate’s body.

“Oh yes,” he growled again. He rolled to his side so that he could fully appreciate his mate’s ass, settling a heavy hand on one of the lovely swells of flesh. He couldn’t resist grazing his index finger down a cheek, marveling at the faint pink scratch left behind against the smooth whiteness. His mate flinched and trembled. Fenrir bared his teeth.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, boy. It’s time that you lose that shyness of yours.”

Fenrir grasped the boy’s hip and yanked him up onto his side, scooting forward and pressing his cock against the boy’s ass. He slung a heavy arm around his mate’s body and reached down to wrap his hand around his boy’s young cock, squeezing and pulling. His mate tried to curl in on himself, whimpering and pressing his thighs together adorably, as though that would stop him.

“So sweet,” Fenrir murmured, releasing the now half-hard cock.

 

*            *            *

 

“We’re not doing this sideways, so don’t get comfortable pup,” said Greyback into Harry’s ear. “They don’t call it doggy style for nothing. Roll back over.”

Harry didn’t move. Greyback shoved his hand against his hip, pushing him back onto his stomach, then reared up behind him. Clawed hands grabbed at his waist and pulled him up onto his knees, then one hand pressed between his shoulders, forcing him down into an arched position. Harry whimpered, feeling exposed and helpless. He knew it would ease the pressure on his shoulders if he relaxed into the pose, but he refused to submit for the werewolf, supporting himself stiffly with his elbows. He bit his lip when he felt the press of a tongue against the base of his spine. Mortified heat traveled through his body as he realized what the werewolf was planning to do. Sharp claws were pricking into his sides as a hot, nimble tongue began to slip down between his cheeks.

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir’s cock was heavy and dripping between his legs. The taste and scent of his boy was incredible. He tongued his mate’s virgin hole ruthlessly, eager to feel it open and contract, shyly letting him in. He slurped hungrily at the boy’s sac and perineum then gave a sharp nip to one of the boy’s fleshy cheeks, enjoying the ensuing gasp and whimpers before diving back for more of the boy's sweet hole. His mate was so fun to play with…

 

*            *            *

 

Harry’s face was burning and his body was beyond tense as he struggled not to react. He held himself as still as possible, but to his horror, his hole kept twitching, opening under the werewolf’s tongue. He felt even more violated than when Greyback had touched his cock earlier, and he was filled with shame when he realized he was fully hard and leaking. The werewolf started to lap noisily at his hole, grunting like a beast, and Harry trembled as his cock bobbed between his legs.

“Please,” he heard himself beg. “Please stop.”

Greyback did not stop. Instead, he rubbed his unkempt, whiskery face between Harry’s cheeks and against the back of his quivering thighs, leaving stinging trails across his skin. Then he spoke, his voice deep and wrecked.

“I’ve been gentle with you till now, pup,” he said, getting to his knees behind Harry and gripping his hips. “But I can’t hold back anymore, it’s not in my nature.” Harry heard him spit into his hand. “Brace yourself….”

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir positioned his thick, spit-slicked cock at the boy’s entrance and leaned forward, restraining his mate by his slim hips. Without any more words, he mounted the boy.

Immediately the boy began to yowl like the bitch Fenrir knew was in there all along. He smiled, baring his teeth, then surged inside his mate powerfully, throwing his head back and letting loose a howl of his own. His mate’s squeals fueled his arousal, and with a growl he slammed forward, breaking past the boy's tight virginal ring of muscle. The coppery scent of his boy’s first blood filled his sensitive nose and Fenrir roared then, making it known to any wolf in the area that this bitch was _his_. With a savage thrust, he forced himself completely inside his mate, leaning forward to teethe and suck against the boy’s quaking shoulder, his clawed hands digging into the boy’s sides. He began to drive his hips back and forth with the rapid speed of the wolf that he was, his ears feasting on his mate’s sweet puppy yelps and whimpers. His chest heaved with the effort he put forth, and he leaned back to watch his cock claiming the boy. Fenrir howled at the sight, then he howled to the Mother Moon, thanking her, chasing his orgasm, ready to spill his seed inside his mate and make him his.

That was how Severus Snape found them, before he whipped out his wand and snarled, _“Stupefy!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone remembers this story, I will be pleased as punch. I hope you like the updated, improved, better version. I plan to update until I am caught up to where I stopped (around 17 chapters)… hopefully by then I will be inspired to finish. 
> 
> If you are also a fan of my other Fenrir/Harry fic, The Solar Cross (mpreg), I plan to do the same with that story eventually as well.
> 
> While you are waiting for edited chapters, please read my other work, including my current Tom Riddle/Harry fic, "Wrong"


	2. This Time, Please Someone Come and Rescue Me

Severus stared in shock at the sight of Harry Potter, naked and trapped underneath the Stunned form of Fenrir Greyback. The werewolf’s massive body was still heaving with exertion on top of the boy. Severus cautiously approached, his wand held aloft to provide light, and his hooked nose wrinkled in revulsion at the smells that assaulted his sensitive nose.

Severus was baffled. How had Potter gotten into this position? What was he doing alone in the Black Forest without his faithful friends? He should be at the Muggle home, or with the Weasleys, not fornicating in the woods with a dangerous werewolf. The Order must have been in worse disarray than he thought.

As he got closer, Severus observed that Potter appeared to have fainted beneath the werewolf. He doubted the boy had noticed him before losing consciousness, and Severus could easily retreat and evaluate the situation from afar. It would certainly be the most self-preserving option, but he knew he couldn’t leave Potter like this. He had sworn to protect him above all else – to Dumbledore, to Lily – and furthermore, if he assisted the boy, there was a chance he could finally repair his position within the Order and explain what had happened on the night of Albus Dumbledore’s death.

Severus advanced cautiously. The light from his wand cast a dim glow over the forest floor and he spotted Potter’s ravaged clothes strewn amongst the leaves. He felt sick as his mind supplied suggestions as to how that had occurred.

“ _Levicorpus!_ ” Severus murmured, flicking his wand. Greyback was lifted off and out of the boy, and Severus’ stomach roiled in disgust. He flicked his wand off to the side, sending Greyback flying. The beast slammed into a tree, his heavy form collapsing at its base, still under Severus’ Stunning spell. Under the light of his wand, Severus spotted Harry’s own wand and glasses. Severus knew the werewolf wouldn’t be affected for much longer, and he hurried forward to pocket them.

 _“Mobilicorpus,”_ said Severus, levitating Potter from the ground. He kept his wand held low, studying the leaf patterns with narrowed eyes. There was a definite disruption coming from straight ahead in the opposite direction of the cave Severus had been seeking. He turned and began to walk swiftly, following the path most likely made by Potter, his great strides sending his robes into a flurry around his feet. He made sure that Potter hit nothing as he directed the boy’s limp body in front of him. He did not know where he was headed, but perhaps there was a place to hide nearby and properly assess the boy’s health.

After what must have been half an hour of fast-paced walking, the path stopped. Severus held out a hand and concentrated as Dumbledore had taught him, then drew back in triumph. Magic was present, thrumming in the air directly in front of him.

 _“Reveal your secret!”_ said Severus, pointing his wand imperiously. He could not imagine that the boy could come up with a Disillusionment charm strong enough to deflect his own creative spell. He was correct; the air seemed to hum and the darkness flickered in front of him.

 _“Reveal yourself,”_ said Severus, with an almost lazy wave of his wand.

Potter’s spell was no match for him. Severus’ lips drew back in a satisfied smirk as a small, quaint cottage appeared before him. It looked very much like the gamekeeper’s hut, with walls of stone and a heavily thatched roof. There were two small windows on either side of a heavy looking door, which was equipped with an iron knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. Severus sneered before raising his wand and casting a powerful “ _Alohomora!”_ ’

The door swung open with a bang. Without delay, Severus strode inside, guiding the boy in front of him. Lamps flickered on at their arrival, illuminating the reasonably sized room. Severus quickly observed a kitchenette, circular dining table, another door leading possibly to a bathroom, and a stove, which burst to life, sending out comforting heat. He spotted an unmade bed in the corner of the cottage, half-shielded by a curtain. Severus stepped over books and maps that were laid carelessly out on the floor and guided the boy to the bed. He flicked his wand once more, arranging blankets neatly over the young Gryffindor, shielding the boy’s nakedness. He then began to murmur cleansing and healing charms powerful enough to mend and disinfect scrapes and minor wounds. He was doubtful that the charms would stop any effects caused by a werewolf. Any bite marks would be cursed wounds, and saliva – and possibly semen, but this had never been studied – would cause some side effects to Potter. At least Greyback had been in human form…. Severus knew that Greyback had mauled Bill Weasley while in human form, but as he had been out of contact with the wizarding world for several weeks, he had no idea what had become of him. Perhaps Remus Lupin would know what to do for the boy, but how could Severus get in touch with him safely? Severus glared in frustration at nothing in particular and sat down in one of the chairs placed around the dining table to process what had occurred.

The first matter to be settled: _what in Merlin’s name was Harry Potter doing here?_

The only motive that Severus could come up with for Potter’s presence in these woods, specifically in the area that he had found him, would be the same that Severus had for being here. The boy must have been seeking out the hidden cave entrance to the underground lair of Fenrir Greyback and his werewolves.

Surely the Order wasn’t so stupid as to send the boy alone into the den of at least fifty wizard-hating, savage beasts? Perhaps Potter, foolish boy that he was, had been acting alone, playing the hero as ever. Was he carrying out a premeditated mission on Dumbledore’s behalf? Had Dumbledore planned to send an envoy to the outcast werewolves as he had sent Hagrid and Madame Maxime to the giants? But then, certainly Dumbledore would have intended for Lupin to carry out such a task?

Severus was positive of one fact: Potter did not have the same reasons for seeking out the cave as Severus did.

Severus had intended to make contact with Fenrir Greyback that night in an attempt to glean information and to determine if it would be possible for him to contact any Death Eaters, let alone the Dark Lord himself, without risking immediate death. He needed to speak to someone whose loyalty to the Dark Lord was not blindly absolute, but also someone who was privileged to clandestine information. Greyback had been a regular at Death Eater meetings before Severus fled with Draco Malfoy on the night of Dumbledore’s death, and Severus assumed he was still an active participant in those unpleasant get-togethers. The werewolf had been present during the attack on Dumbledore at Hogwarts, and also commanded a huge potential weapon for the Dark Lord in the form of his criminal pack of beasts. Despite all this, Greyback had never been given the honor of a Dark Mark branded into his arm, and therefore had no direct method to summon the Dark Lord. He was also rather infamous for not using a wand. These facts led Severus to conclude that Greyback would be the best individual to contact and not be at risk for instant betrayal.

However, his carefully planned strategy had been tossed out before it could begin. Like always, Harry Potter had to make a mess of things.

‘ _Idiotic, fool-hardy Gryffindor,_ ’ Severus thought furiously.

How in Merlin’s name had Potter managed to run into Greyback of all people?

It also was quite evident that the beast had defiled the boy.

This was a horrific disaster of a situation.

Severus scrubbed at his face, fatigue and stress seeping into his body. He spotted a clock on the wall and saw that it was past midnight. It would not be a wise idea to go back out now, not when Greyback was most likely released from his Stunned state and in what was likely to be a foul mood.

Severus stood and flicked his wand at the chair, transfiguring it into a modest camp bed. He locked the door with the most powerful spell he could, sealing not only the door, but the windows as well. He resolved to rest for a few hours, then check on Potter again. Severus slipped off his boots, traveling cloak and robes, then climbed into the bed before he closed his eyes and breathed evenly in and out, beginning his nightly meditations that would close his mind to any that would want to find him….

 

*          *          *

 

Out in the forest, Fenrir began to stir. He coughed and snorted out dirt that had somehow gotten into his nose and he pushed himself to all fours, groaning as pain in his back made itself known. His eyes slowly opened, taking in the damaged tree he was slumped against, the disturbed leaves, and flattened soil impressions that could only have been left by –

Harry Potter. _His mate._

Fenrir let loose a livid roar, eyes flashing in the night. His mate was gone. He clawed furiously at the leaves as though hoping to uncover him. He sniffed the air and immediately sensed that another had been there…a male… Had he taken his mate? Fenrir roared again, and he scanned the trees surrounding the clearing with wild eyes. He inhaled deeply. A scent in the air was familiar to him… the smell of a simmering cauldron, and that slick grease that only Severus Snape used to protect his hair from the fumes in his precious potions....

Snape! The betrayer!

Fenrir rose to his hind legs and swiftly moved to the spot where he had claimed his mate. His clothes were still there… Fenrir made a grab for the tattered white cloth that had been the boy’s underwear, holding it delicately in his claws and pressing it to his furry chest.

“Bastard,” Fenrir growled, baring his teeth. Obviously the traitor meant to use his mate as a present for the Dark Lord, or as a bargaining tool of some kind. Fenrir barked angrily and swept off after the trail Snape had left. He could smell the rusty tang of blood and his own fluids, and his heavy cock gave an interested twitch in spite of his anger.

‘ _Not the time for that…don’t worry…later_ ,’ he thought, legs flying rapidly across the ground.

The forest whispered around him of what he didn’t have. The moon sneaked through the treetops to berate him, and the whistling wind carved through the branches and laughed at him. He had lost his mate. They hadn’t completed their first joining, and the Mother Moon was not happy. If it had been a Full Moon, her anger would be so fierce that Fenrir would have had to seek cover…

Fenrir howled his fury to the forest, and Harry Potter awoke with a frightened cry in his bed.

 

*          *          *

 

Harry’s eyes flew open and he called out into the darkness. His limbs felt as though an electric current had just passed through him and he shivered against the sensation of feathers trailing all over his skin. He clutched at the comforter around him and gritted his teeth until the feeling stopped. Memories flooded his brain, and he threw his arm over his eyes.

‘ _No, no, no,’_ his mind repeated stupidly.

But it happened. He had been…attacked… and it was his fault. He shouldn’t have been out alone. What would the others think? They would be so disappointed in him, he wasn’t meant to lead… What if he was a werewolf now? Harry shrank away from that thought.

Harry suddenly realized he wasn’t in the forest anymore. Somehow, he had gotten into his bed…but how? Someone must have brought him here…

Greyback? No.

Harry tried to sit up, and immediately fell back against the pillows, groaning. He was sore almost everywhere. Taking note of his pain, Harry quickly realized that while he was aching, the scratches he had received in the assault were gone. He wasn’t dirty anymore either…someone had healed him, cleaned him. Harry blinked his eyes and turned his head towards the center of the room, past the half-pulled curtain. In the darkness he could just make out the outline of a sleeping form on what appeared to be a bed. Had Remus and the others come early? Was it someone else?

Then, Harry heard it – the sounds of something big crashing through leaves and brush nearby, and in quite a hurry. He shivered and shrunk into a ball, knowing what it was. A sharp bark confirmed his belief.

“ _Lumos!_ ”

Harry’s head turned so fast that he had to shoot out a hand to right himself. His eyes widened in shock, and then anger.

_“You!”_

“Be quiet, you’ll get us killed, you idiot!” hissed Snape, looming over Harry.

Harry searched frantically for his wand, hands sifting through the tangled sheets. Snape snorted, unimpressed.

“I have it, Potter. Be glad I picked up after you.”

“Shut up!” Harry shouted, horrified that it came out more as a sob.

“Potter, if you don’t stop your sniveling this instant, the beast will find us!” Snape spat.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve got this place hidden along with silencing charms!” said Harry angrily.

“Clearly not well enough since I was able to find this place easily. Also, who knows how well you and that thing outside are connected? For all we know, he can smell you through the wards and already knows we’re here.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Wha – what do you mean, ‘connected’?”

Snape snarled at him to be quiet before saying, “I’m not an expert on werewolves, imbecile; perhaps his ability to smell you has heightened, now that you’ve….” Snape trailed off, his mouth twisting with distaste.

Harry stared, his eyes wide with distress and fear. Snape knew what had happened, he might tell someone… assuming Snape didn’t murder him on the spot, just as he had killed Dumbledore, or take him to the Dark Lord.

Harry looked at Snape closely for the first time. He looked even sallower than before, with sunken eyes and a bit of stubble forming on his face. Harry had never seen Snape looking less than impeccably clean-shaven before… why did he look so disheveled? Why had he saved him? Things weren’t adding up.

“Snape –”

“Be _silent!_ ” Snape hissed through bared teeth. His eyes were concentrated on the door.

“He is close,” the man murmured after a few moments.

Harry sat up straighter, trying to hear… and there it was: almost silent footsteps, leaves crunching gently under prowling feet. It sounded as though Greyback was circling the cottage. Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of his Disillusionment charm. Only a really powerful wizard could bring it down, like Snape. Obviously the werewolf was confused as to why he couldn’t see his hideout. Harry’s pleased triumph lasted exactly two seconds. Greyback roared outside and banged against the cottage that he couldn’t see. The walls trembled.

“Potter,” whispered Snape, bending his knees slightly, drawing his wand up into the standard dueling position. “Do you have that Invisibility cloak with you?”

Harry nodded, hardly daring to breathe.

“I advise you to get under it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read my other stories if you'd like while you wait for the next chapter! 
> 
> Another change I'm making to this story is including chapter names…originally I just used numbers and this wasn't helpful when I was re-reading to edit, looking for specific scenes, so I realized my readers probably felt the same way… Rihanna's "SOS" lyrics fit Harry's state of mind for this story surprisingly well…


	3. You've Got Some Explaining To Do

Fenrir roared and hurled a fistful of dirt at what seemed to be an invisible wall. Snape was behind it with his stolen mate, and was holding him prisoner. Fenrir searched the ground, then knelt down to dig out a huge rock embedded in the dirt nearby. He hoisted it into the air and launched it straight ahead with ease. The rock hit something and dropped back to the earth with a heavy thud. Fenrir’s golden eyes gleamed angrily in the dark.

“Snape, you son of a bitch, I know you have him!” he barked, flinging himself against the wall. “Give him to me now, and I _won’t_ tear you to pieces!”

There was no response. Fenrir dug his nails into the solid air and dragged them down. “The Dark Lord will be pleased to hear you are well, Snape! Missed you, he did….” Fenrir received no answer and he banged his fist against the wall again. “Just give me the boy, Snape. I’ll forget I ever saw you.”

The only sounds to be heard in response were from the forest around him. Fenrir snarled, then dropped to all fours and began to lope around the edges of the hidden structure, laughing manically. “I’ll get in, little piggy…You know I will. I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down!”

After making a loop around the perimeter of the shielded area, Fenrir stopped back by the rock he’d thrown, panting with exertion and frustration. He ran his claws over every inch of the barrier in front of him, trying to determine its height and if there were any weak points. There didn’t seem to be any.

For the first time in years, Fenrir wished he had a wand. He had never needed one, not since he’d been bitten. The natural magic in his werewolf hide dulled or repelled most spells aimed against him. There was rarely a situation that his muscle couldn’t solve, and nothing that he couldn’t see, smell, or hear better than any spell would allow. A wand was a worthless piece of wood, designed for wizards and witches to hold to make them feel better as they looked down their noses at the dirty, wild wolf with sneers on their faces.

Now, however, Fenrir had to admit that a wand would have been helpful…. He couldn’t get past this invisible boundary. His bulk couldn’t knock anything down. There were no weak pockets in the barrier… Snape must have made sure of that, he was a powerful wizard… Fenrir still remembered the strength of the curse that had killed Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of the age…

Fenrir howled in fury.

 

*            *            *

 

Protected in the cottage, Harry crouched by the fireplace, still naked, under his Invisibility Cloak. He had watched Snape’s expression apprehensively when Greyback mentioned trading him for his silence. Snape had not taken the bait.

Harry’s mind was a complete jumble. Could it be possible that Snape didn’t want to go to Voldemort? Was Snape on the run? The only possibility Harry could imagine was that maybe Voldemort had been angry with Snape for killing Dumbledore. After all, it was Draco that was supposed to have done it. Or perhaps Snape had disappointed him in some other way since then?

Harry shivered when he heard the werewolf’s laughter and howls. The sounds made him want to crawl into a hole and hide and never come out. He knew he was being irrational, that he needed to keep his wits about him if he was to get through this… but Greyback was a monster, truly….

“Potter,” said Snape, eyes darting in his direction. “You are close to hyperventilating.”

Harry flinched with surprise, then forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths.

“Potter,” said Snape again. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

Harry tightened his cloak around himself, wondering how much he should answer. “I’ve only been alone since this morning,” said Harry finally. “Remus and everybody are supposed to come today.”

“Who, exactly, is ‘everybody’, Potter?”

“Tonks, Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Hermione,” said Harry, a threat in his voice. He figured the man should know he would soon be up against seven of them, there was no point in hiding that.

“Merlin,” Snape muttered. “That’s half the Order. What are you all doing out here?”

Harry scowled, peering up at Snape from his spot on the floor. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Snape’s lip curled, his eyes still on the door. “May I ask how you plan to fit them all in this hovel?”

Harry bristled. “It’s not a _hovel_ , and there’s a door over there. This cottage expands – it can fit as many people as it needs to.”

Snape said nothing for a moment, then asked, “Do you have any idea as to what time we should be expecting them?”

“Soon,” said Harry. 

“ _Soon_ ,” Snape repeated mockingly. “How precise.”

Harry glared up at his former teacher, but didn’t respond to the jibe. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how long the others would take to arrive. They had planned for sometime in the morning, once the sun had risen. Instead of saying any of this, Harry focused on the noise outside – or rather, the absence of noise.

“Is he gone?” he whispered.

“Perhaps,” said Snape. “But he will be back.”

“What does he want with me?” said Harry miserably, unable to stop himself.

Snape sat back down on the transfigured bed. “I would have thought that he would take you to the Dark Lord, but he seems to want you for… other reasons.”

“He – he said I smelled good,” said Harry, pulling the cloak tighter around himself.

Snape snorted. “I always knew the beast was a tad unbalanced.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath before scrambling off the floor and stumbling back to his bed. “Please,” he said, voice strangled. “Don’t.” He reached under his bed for clean pajamas and struggled into them, his body trembling with sudden exhaustion. “I’m going to sleep," he muttered. He shoved his cloak under his pillow, then collapsed into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. "Wake me if anything happens.”

“Potter!”

Harry just rolled to his stomach and ignored the man, his body and mind shutting down, unable to process anything more for the night.

Snape let out a string of curses, then sat in silence, waiting for any sound or signal of Greyback’s return.

 

*            *            *

 

Pink light rose over the Black Forest. A group of six witches and wizards appeared amongst the trees, each with various looks of apprehension on their faces. Harry was supposed to have contacted them by midnight to confirm his safety, but there had been no word.

“Wands out,” said Remus Lupin, glancing from person to person, pulling out his own. Obediently, five other wands were drawn.

“No signs of an attack,” muttered Charlie, looking towards the location where the safe house was supposed to be.

“Look at that rock though,” said Ron uneasily. “It’s been dug up from there,” he trailed off, pointing at a spot of disturbed soil. His face was pale, his freckles bright. Hermione touched his shoulder gently.

“It looks to me like a boundary marker,” said Remus. “Let’s advance slowly now, stand in the formation like we practiced.”

Everyone shifted into a circle facing outward, and with Remus leading them, they began to move slowly into the clearing.

“Oops!” Tonks tripped, and Bill caught her arm. Remus sighed.

“Tonks, perhaps you should be facing forward on this side….”

Flushing slightly, the purple-haired witch switched places with Hermione, and the group began to move again.

 

*            *            *

 

Inside the cottage, Severus began to twitch nervously. Potter had said six…. Even though two of them were still students, Severus had no doubt that the group could overcome him easily. He’d have to either immobilize them as soon as they came in, or explain to them through the door of his predicament, but he didn’t fancy hiding behind a door like a coward. That would not be the act of an innocent man….

“Potter!” he hissed at the sleeping boy. “Get up, they’re here….”

Potter did nothing except curl tighter around himself. Severus sneered and turned back to the door, raising his wand.

“What’s the password again?” said the voice of Nymphadora Tonks through the door.

“Pygmy Puffs,” said the dragon tamer.

Severus’ entire body tensed as he heard the subtle click of a lock. The door swung open.

_“IMPEDIMENTA!”_

All six froze. Then Tonks stumbled mid-step. It took several seconds before they realized they were free to move.

“Snape!” shouted the Weasley boy, clearly shocked. All of them aimed their wands at him, identical looks of fury on their faces.

“I wasn’t aiming for you, you idiots,” spat Severus, wand still raised in defense. “I was aiming at _that_!”

Collectively, they all turned. Hermione Granger gasped and hid her face; Bill Weasley growled, and Remus inhaled sharply.

Greyback was frozen behind them in mid-leap, claws outstretched, teeth bared, and his eyes were a fiery yellow.

“I think it would be best,” said Severus slowly. “If we were to Stun him together. It would put him out for a long time.”

Greyback couldn’t move, but his eyes swam with hatred.

Seven wands pointed at the werewolf, and they Stunned him in unison. A few beams of red light ricocheted off the werewolf's hide, but several managed to connect. Greyback fell like a stone in a pond, slumped over on himself on the ground.

Remus spun around and aimed his wand at Severus again. The others followed suit.

“You have exactly five seconds to start talking,” said Remus, his normally polite tone harsh and cold.

Severus glared, lip curling. “I just saved all of your lives, and your precious Boy-Who-Lived is safe in the room behind me. I think I deserve a little more time than that.”

“You don’t deserve anything, traitor,” said Bill, his furious expression frightening to behold; white raised scars marred his cheeks, and there was a vertical indentation coming down from his left eye.

Severus’ gaze flicked from one set of eyes to the other, before settling on Remus again.

“It’s not what you think,” he began quietly. “It’s not how you thought.”

“It’s exactly how I think,” said Remus, taking a step forward.

Severus backed into the room, away from the door, and he lowered his wand deliberately. “Let’s continue this inside. Who knows how many more beasts there are lurking in the forest behind you?”

Remus gave him a piercing look before advancing into the room, wand still pointed directly between his eyes.

Behind Severus, Potter stirred.

“Remus?”

“Harry!” said the Granger girl, rushing forward. Charlie caught her and held her back, eyes locked on Severus.

“It’s okay,” said Potter. “Really. He won’t do anything.”

“You can’t know that, Harry,” said Remus. “For all we know, he’s Confunded you.”

Potter shook his head, and stood up from his bed. “No… he’s been with me all night, even when I was asleep. He didn’t do anything.”

“We should sit down,” said Severus, indicating the table and chairs in the middle of the room. “I will explain everything. You can keep your wands drawn on me, if it comforts you.”

“We didn’t ask your permission,” said Tonks, marching into the cottage. The rest of them followed and sat down around the table, and Severus began to talk.

 

*            *            *

 

“I still don’t believe him,” said Ron, shoving his clothes haphazardly into the dresser in the bedroom he had claimed for himself. Hermione huffed and waved her wand at the mangled looking heap, and the clothes shaped themselves into neatly folded piles.

“Hermione, be careful, or I’ll start calling you Mum.”

Harry smiled weakly at their predictable banter from his spot on the bed, picking at some blanket threads as he thought over what they’d just been told.

Snape had admitted to killing Dumbledore. However, he claimed that the murder had been planned by Dumbledore himself in order to satisfy part of an Unbreakable Vow that Snape had made to Narcissa Malfoy, meant to spare Draco Malfoy from having to commit murder. The murder would also end the wizard’s painful suffering from an eventual Cursed death. Snape told them that Dumbledore had intended for Snape to continue as a double agent, but Harry witnessing the murder had thwarted this. To make matters more complicated, Draco Malfoy had fled into hiding that night instead of returning home with his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape, having made the Unbreakable Vow to protect Malfoy, was forced to follow. The Dark Lord had labeled them both deserters in the wake of their flight. The only way Snape could see to return to the Order was to bring back valuable information from within the ranks of the Death Eaters. Snape finished his account with a brief detail of the night before, telling them that he had been in the Black Forest to seek out Greyback – the only known high-ranking supporter of Voldemort without a Dark Mark – in order to put his plan in motion and to set things right.

“I believe him,” said Harry suddenly, breaking into Ron and Hermione’s chatter.

Hermione looked at him shrewdly. “Why?”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “Dumbledore trusted him, didn’t he? And it’s true, what Snape said about Dumbledore asking him to kill him…Dumbledore was pleading.” Harry paused, the grief still fresh. “I’ve never heard him sound like that before.”

“Well you’d sound mental too if you were about to be killed by someone you trusted,” said Ron gruffly.

“I didn’t say mental,” said Harry tersely. “Just…like he needed Snape to do something really important–”

“Like not kill him?”

Harry glared at Ron. “You weren’t there, you didn’t hear him… and he was telling the truth about the Curse… Dumbledore’s hand was black, like it was already dead… and Malfoy – he was terrified that night. He didn’t want to kill Dumbledore. If Snape hadn’t done it, they might have hurt Malfoy… and I saw them leave together, not with the other Death Eaters.”

Ron made a snorting sound, but said nothing.

“Besides,” said Harry. “Greyback–”

Harry suddenly broke off, his throat constricting.

Hermione looked up from her lap. “What about Greyback?”

Harry sucked in a breath, then forced himself to keep talking, trying to sound as normal as possible. “He mentioned something about Voldemort–,” Harry ignored Ron’s shudder. “ _Missing_ Snape…like he hadn’t seen him in awhile… and then he said he wouldn’t tell Voldemort that he’d seen Snape if–”

Hermione stared at Harry, absorbed. “If what?” she prompted.

“If Snape gave me to him,” Harry finished quietly.

Ron finally sat down, comprehension dawning. “So, Snape didn’t give you up. But – if he truly was loyal to – to You-Know-Who – then wouldn’t he have taken Greyback up on his offer?”

“That’s what I think,” said Harry, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably.

Hermione pressed her lips together, then said, “I believe him too. Dumbledore always said Snape was loyal…like he knew something we all didn’t.”

They all paused, digesting this turn of events.

“Well,” said Ron finally. “I’m finished unpacking. Let’s check on the others.”

Harry and Hermione stood and followed Ron into the hallway. They spotted Tonks carrying a robe into the main room, and Ron raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s for Greyback. You know, for dignity,” she said brightly.

Hermione blushed and Harry blanched.

“Where is he?” asked Ron.

“Outside,” said Tonks. “We set up a paddock out there so we can keep an eye on him. Remus’ cover is long gone with the werewolves, so this may be the perfect opportunity to get some inside information.”

“Wait,” said Harry, eyes widening. “You’re keeping him here? You’re going to talk to him?”

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, confused at his rising, panicked voice.

“Of course. We can’t just let him go,” said Tonks.

“But…” Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. “He’s dangerous, look what he did to Bill! What if he gets out of the paddock? He can’t stay here, he–”

“Harry.”

Harry stopped, his breath coming in short gasps. He turned to see Bill and Remus entering the cottage, looking at him with grave expressions. Bill’s eyes drifted to the floor.

With sudden assuredness, Harry knew that they knew.

“Harry, let’s go talk in my room, alright?” Remus asked gently, but his eyes conveyed that there would be no arguing.

Harry nodded, unable to meet Ron and Hermione’s curious faces. Remus walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, then guided him back into the hallway and into the first bedroom, Bill following close behind. Harry found himself steered onto a bed, and Remus sat beside him while Bill chose to stand beside the closed door. Harry bent his head and picked at a small hole in his pajama bottoms.

“How did you know?” he asked quietly. He felt eerily removed from his body, like he was watching the scene from above.

“I could smell it,” said Remus.

Harry felt sick. He looked at Bill.

“I couldn’t,” said the scarred-redhead, answering the unasked question and crossing his arms. “My senses haven’t been affected. I just get a little restless around the Full Moon – like I want to be outside, or go running or something… and…well, I get a bit randy, to be honest.”

Harry’s stomach clenched and he looked down at his knees again.

“Sorry,” Bill muttered, looking embarrassed.

Harry just shook his head, feeling a need to explain. “I – I don’t know how it happened. I know I shouldn’t have been out by myself, but I just thought if I could find the locket–”

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” said Remus, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t responsible for what Greyback did.”

“I am,” Harry choked out bitterly. “He said I smelled good. He wasn’t going to do it, he was just going to hurt me, but then he smelled me and….” Harry trailed off and hunched over his knees, grabbing at his hair.

“You smelled good?” asked Remus, brow furrowed. Then he looked at Bill, a horrified expression coming over his face.

“What?” asked Bill.

“He may have Scented him,” said Remus in a whisper, as though saying it any louder would make it certain.

Bill dropped his arms. “No way,” he muttered.

“What?” Harry asked, eyes darting from one to the other. “What’s ‘Scenting’? What do you mean?”

Remus grabbed his shoulders. “Harry, please stay calm. I have to explain this to you. I need you to listen, and not panic… do you understand me?”

Harry stared into Remus’ eyes, then nodded slowly. Remus let go of Harry’s shoulders and took a deep breath before speaking quietly.

“Harry… when a werewolf is in human form, they have sharper senses than the normal human. For instance, I can smell and hear better than you can, and my sight in the dark is much better than yours.”

“I never got to Snape’s essay in third year,” said Harry hollowly.

Remus’ mouth twisted wryly before he continued. “Every human has their own unique scent, but humans can’t smell this without some sort of aid… but werewolves can smell it, Harry, that's how they find their mates. Their mate’s scent will smell rather irresistible. When this happens, it’s called ‘Scenting’ – at least that’s what they called it among Greyback’s pack.”

Remus paused, his eyes searching Harry’s, who stared back for a moment then looked down at the bedspread, unwilling to accept what Remus was telling him. Instead, Harry asked, “So does that mean Tonks is your mate?”

Remus blinked, caught off-guard. Then his eyes softened sadly. “No, I’m very sorry to say she’s not.”

“But you’re still…with her?”

Remus sighed. “Yes Harry, and I plan to stay with her. I love her very much. However, if I ever were to come upon my mate, I’m afraid the pull would be impossible to deny.”

“What do you mean, ‘the pull’?” Harry asked.

“The moon,” said Bill from his spot against the door. “Even I can feel it. The beams of the moon drive me mental some nights…I said before, I feel really randy the closer it gets to the Full Moon…” He smiled lightly, his scars somewhat hindering the comforting effect he meant to have. “Fleur sometimes has to seal the cracks of the doors to keep the light out.”

“The moon has power over us, Harry,” said Remus, his voice becoming heavy. “Without the aid of the Wolfsbane potion, it makes me want things…blood, prey, sex.”

Harry’s stomach clenched.

Remus shook his head bitterly. “It causes me to change once a month against my will. Do you remember my boggart, Harry? It was the moon. I fear it… I fear what the moon does to me.”

Harry looked at Remus’ stricken face. He hadn’t realized how much being a werewolf troubled the man, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever heard Remus speak so openly about it.

“So…what’s going to happen to me?”

Remus sighed. “I suppose you’ll be like Bill. You’ll feel the moon...but it will affect you differently, I’m sure. You’ve not only been exposed to Greyback’s saliva, but his semen as well.”

Harry’s stomach roiled. Remus grimaced apologetically, then placed a hand gently on Harry’s shoulder.

“The moon will likely tell you to submit to your mate – to Greyback – if it’s true that he has Scented you.”

Harry leapt to his feet, knocking Remus’ hand from his shoulder. “So, what then? I’m just supposed to roll over for him every night?” he shouted, face heating.

“No, Harry, no!” said Remus quickly. “Harry, I don’t know. Please, sit back down.”

Harry sat once more, furious and sickened.

“I must speak with Greyback.” Remus ran a nervous hand through his grey-flecked hair. “If you don’t satisfy the mating, you could both become ill, or perhaps insane… I don’t know right now, Harry. Please don’t be angry with me.”

Remus’ distressed face broke through Harry’s anger. He swallowed and gave a shaky nod, unclenching his fists slowly.

There was a knock on the door, and Bill opened it to reveal Charlie, looking serious.

“Remus… Greyback is waking up.”                                                                                                                          

 

            

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, for all the subscriptions and kudos, and for the lovely comments! I'm so flattered to know that many of you remember this story!


	4. Can't Fight the Moonlight

“You three stay inside,” said Remus to Harry, Hermione, and Ron as he strode out through the open door of the cottage. Bill, Charlie, and Tonks followed him out, and Ron and Hermione scrambled to the window, kneeling on Harry’s bed to see the action. Harry stood behind them, crossing his arms over his nervous stomach.

“Harry, c’mon, don’t you want to watch?” said Ron, nose pressed to the glass. Harry made an indistinct noise and reluctantly walked closer to the pair. Over their heads, Harry could see the constructed paddock outside. It looked very much like one of the outdoor kennels that Aunt Marge had kept her bred bulldogs in. Snape was standing by the fence, scowling heavily at Greyback. The werewolf had apparently just ripped the robe he had been offered to shreds.

“Hermione, you shouldn’t be looking,” said Ron in a superior tone, reaching over to cover her eyes.

Hermione tutted and swatted his hand away. “It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked man before, Ron.”

“WHAT?” said Ron, eyes positively bulging.

Harry tuned them out, his gaze fixed on the scene in front of him. Greyback was pacing back and forth, occasionally hitting at the magical fence keeping him in while everyone stood around it, looking grim. This was the first time Harry had actually gotten a clear, uninterrupted look at the man.

Greyback would certainly top six feet by more than a few inches if he stood up straight. He leaned over slightly instead, his neck thrust forward as though prepared to strike at any time. Unkempt black hair streaked heavily with grey grew slightly past his huge shoulders, and the same hair adorned his face in a whiskery beard and mustache.

Unlike Hermione, Harry had never seen a grown man naked before. He had seen a glimpse of Fred – or possibly George – once after a Quidditch practice in the showers, and that had been a hasty accident. Time to study had not been had. Harry had plenty of time in this case because the idea of wearing a robe had obviously been extremely offensive to Greyback. Harry took in the scars that heavily ornamented the werewolf’s thick arms, standing out against the paleness of his skin. Greyback’s expansive chest was covered with a dusting of dark hair that continued down across his abdominal muscles and gathered in a coarse trail around his navel, finally ending between his legs. Harry refused to look in that area any more closely. Harry’s eyes skipped instead to take in the powerful, hairy thighs that had caught up with him so easily.

“Who was it? WHO was it?” Ron was demanding to know of Hermione.

“Does it matter?” said Hermione airily, a haughty expression on her face.

“Of course it matters!” said Ron, face swelling in a way that reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley. Again, Harry was grateful for their predictable squabbling. Their normalcy amidst his turmoil was the only thing keeping him anchored.

Outside, the others began to talk to Greyback, and Harry’s nerves rose again.

 

*            *            *

 

Remus was losing what little patience he had.

“Greyback,” said Remus, his jaw twitching. “Please stop pacing and listen to me.”

Greyback continued to stalk back and forth behind the fence. “Say what you want, traitor,” he snarled. “There’s nothing else to listen to.”

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, then said, “Greyback, I am not a traitor. I was never loyal to you.”

“Did a good impression of it, on your back, slinking around on all fours,” said Greyback roughly, his attention on the cage as he grasped the fencing and attempted to shake it.

Remus’ nostrils flared as he held in a growl. “One does what one has to in order to gain trust. Isn’t that right, Snape?”

Snape’s eyebrows rose along with his curled lip, but he did not respond.

“Right then,” said Remus, collecting himself. “Greyback, I would like you to tell us what you are doing here.”

“I already know what he’s doing here,” interrupted Snape. “He is guarding the new entrance to the werewolves’ underground network.”

Remus glowered at him. “Is there anything _else_ you would like to share, Snape?”

Snape returned the glare, but then he dropped his gaze to the ground. “No, that is all I know.”

Greyback, who had watched this exchange intensely, threw his head back and laughed. Birds flew out of the trees at the sudden sound.

“Snape, loyal to Dumbledore! I never would have guessed... until you deserted us after the fight at the school. You took that Malfoy brat with you…tell me, Snape, is he as good as he looks?”

Snape sneered and said, “Unlike you, Greyback, I do not take bites out of my fellow wizards.”

Greyback made a scoffing sound, then lowered his head and snuffed at the place where the ground met the fence.

“You won’t be able to get out, Greyback,” said Charlie, arms crossed. “I work with dragons. I’ve modeled your cage off of the one we use on the Hungarian Horntails, so you might as well pay attention.”

Greyback looked up at them all, his full concentration fixed on them for the first time. After appearing to think heavily, his brow furrowed, he flopped down to the ground and lounged back on his elbows.

“Go on then, ask what you will.” He began to pick at his teeth lazily, drawing back his nails to gaze at them.

Remus observed the process a few times, then was jolted back into awareness when he realized the wolf was quite possibly picking Harry out of his teeth.

“The entrance is here, then?” he asked, voice strangled.

Greyback said nothing, picking at something caught under his nails.

Throwing caution to the wind, Remus blurted, “Greyback, I know what happened to Harry last night.”

Greyback turned to look at him, mouth stretching languidly into a wide smile.

“I figured you would, Lupin,” he said with gleaming eyes.

Tonks and Charlie looked confused but didn’t interrupt.

“Yes,” said Remus, feeling lost. “Well, he’s told me some things that I would like confirmed, if you don’t mind.”

Greyback’s predatory smile got even wider. “Yes Lupin, it’s true. The boy is an excellent fuck.”

Charlie’s mouth and arms dropped simultaneously in shock, and Tonk’s eyebrows disappeared into her violet hair. Bill let out a growl and drew his wand.

“Put that away, boy, or you’ll lose your hand as well as your twig,” Greyback snarled, leaping to his feet.

“Stop!” said Remus, his voice carrying a desperate quality. Bill continued to glare at Greyback, but slipped his wand away. The werewolf smirked.

“Greyback, you know what I meant. If you don’t confirm it yourself, then I’m going to leave you out here all night under the moon without so much as a _whiff_ of him, and we’ll see how smug you are tomorrow!”

Greyback’s gaze snapped to Remus and he snarled.

“Yes it’s true, you bloody traitor,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his throat. “He’s _mine_ … my mate! And if you don’t give him to me,” the wolf continued menacingly, slowly moving down the fence towards Remus, eyes hard as flints. “The Mother Moon will drive us both insane. You’ll feel it too, Lupin – she’ll know it’s you keeping him from me.”

Remus swallowed visibly, then turned away from him. Tonks, Bill, and Charlie gathered around him while Snape continued to watch Greyback.

“Remus, what’s going on?” asked Tonks, distressed.

“He’s Scented him,” said Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harry is his mate… and we cannot deny them of each other.”

 _“’Deny them of each other’?”_ Bill repeated furiously. “Harry can’t be with that monster!”

“You can only feel a _taste_ of what the moon can do, Bill,” said Remus, defensive and angry. “You don’t know what it’s like to disobey. You, after all, have given in whenever the moon encourages you and Fleur.”

Bill turned red.

“You have never tried to resist,” Remus whispered, looking haunted.

 

*            *            *

 

Inside the cottage, another distraught conversation was taking place.

“You mean he – _he buggered you_?” Ron screeched, looking sick.

“Ron!” said Hermione, horrified.

Harry sank down on his bed, hands buried in his hair. Hermione sat next to him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder while Ron stood and paced.

“So – so you’re what? A werewolf now?”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No,” he muttered. “I’m like Bill, I guess.”

Ron gaped at him, then sat down heavily in a chair. “Blimey,” he said weakly.

Harry laughed bitterly. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Hermione chewed at her lip. “Harry,” she began delicately. “Greyback said you and him are…mates?”

Harry nodded, swallowing. He didn’t know what to say.

“I think I’ve read about one instance of mating between a werewolf and a human,” said Hermione softly. She paused when there was no objection, then continued hesitantly, “Of course, known episodes of humans and werewolves crossing paths usually occur when the werewolf is in its transfigured form. This leads to the human getting bitten obviously – so mates typically end up being werewolves as well. Most werewolves tend to hide their identity when the Full Moon isn’t out so there isn’t a lot of information on the subject.”

“I’d hide it too,” Ron muttered.

Hermione threw him a caustic look. “Ron, you should know better. Remus is a perfectly fine human being.”

“Some don’t think so,” said Harry, remembering Remus’ fear that parents would demand he be fired when Snape revealed his ‘condition' to the students. A _condition_ ….That’s what Remus had called it back then. He looked to Hermione, prompting her to continue.

“Oh – well, like I said, since werewolves hide their identities to the public, it’s hard to find a report of a human mate, or any human for that matter, in a relationship with a werewolf – at least knowingly. Tonks is actually the only one I know of…”

“And they aren’t mates,” said Harry. Hermione and Ron looked at him curiously. “Remus told me,” said Harry quickly, wondering if Tonks knew and how she felt about it.

“Well, in the case I read about, once the woman realized her husband was a werewolf, she fled from him…she was his mate…he ended up going insane and killed himself, I think….” Hermione trailed off, looking at her lap.

Ron stared, open-mouthed, then said with false brightness, “That was a lovely story, Hermione. Thank you.”

“Oh shut up, Ron,” she said, crossing her arms.

“What about the woman? The human?” asked Harry. “Did she go insane?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Hermione, worrying at her lip. “Well, the book didn’t say actually.”

Ron snorted. “That’s excellent.”

“Well, it _is_ irresponsible journalism, to say the least,” said Hermione with a sniff, as though this was the greatest offense one could commit.

Harry put a hand over his eyes. “Hagrid once said everything happens to me,” he said weakly. “He’s right, you know.”

Hermione rubbed gently at Harry’s shoulder, and Ron looked down at his hands.

 

*            *            *

 

The day was passing too quickly for Remus’ liking. After discussing with the group as to what would be the best course of action, it was time for lunch. Remus offered a turkey and cheese sandwich to Greyback, who had accepted it, only to throw it to the ground and stomp on it. Remus decided to skip offering him dinner.

After lunch, the adults began taking turns watching Greyback. Each of them tried to get more information out of him, but he ignored their questions, answering them with often-obscene requests to see Harry. He even tried to strike a deal with Remus.

“Give me fifteen minutes alone with him, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he had said. Remus still felt sick as he thought about it hours later.

“Remus,” said Harry as night crept closer. “Can I talk with you?” Remus nodded, and they went into his room again.

“Er…, this is about something I heard Greyback say when you were all outside before,” said Harry, his hands twisting nervously. “He said something about…about you being on your back. On all fours –” Harry broke off, looking at the floor.

“He was referring to the way wolves often show their loyalty,” said Remus. “Wolves roll on their backs, exposing their stomachs to their leaders as a sign of respect and submission. That was what he was referring to. It was something Greyback insisted I do when I attempted to convert his pack to our side, to gain their trust – or at least, their tolerance.”

“Oh,” said Harry.

Remus watched Harry closely, then settled a soft hand on his shoulder. “Harry, I hate to say this under such upsetting circumstances but…I’ve never been more proud of you.”

Harry swallowed, but nodded, blinking rapidly.

“Wizards older and wiser than you have experienced far less and reacted much worse,” Remus continued, squeezing his shoulder. Harry just nodded again, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Harry, please, if you need to talk with me – if you have any questions, please ask. I’m sort of a ready-made handbook on werewolves,” Remus finished with a light smile, trying to coax a response from Harry. When he still said nothing, Remus continued.

“Tonight is going to be a trial run, so to speak. We’ll see how things go…perhaps the effects will be minimal to you, Harry. After tonight, we’ll have a better understanding of how to go about things, alright?”

Harry simply nodded again.

 

*            *            *

 

Night was approaching fast. Outside, it was as though a vacuum was sucking every bit of light out of the forest, and Ron whistled, his face pressed to the window.

“Now I know why they call it the Peruvian Black Dust Forest,” said Ron. “It looks just like Fred and George’s stuff.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s called the Black Forest, Ron. We are rather far from Peru.”

“Well still,” Ron said stubbornly. “I can hardly see him anymore.”

Harry’s back tensed at the mention of Greyback, but he didn’t say anything. With the experience of years with the Dursleys, he stood from the table and began collecting everyone’s finished plates, carrying them to the kitchen sink to be washed.

“Sit down, Harry,” said Charlie. “We can do that.”

“No,” said Harry dismissively. “I need something to do right now – take my mind off things.”

Silence laden with tension hit the room, and everyone – though perhaps not Snape – shifted guiltily in their seats. Harry noticed their awkwardness, but felt almost pleased bitterness rearing its ugly head in his mind.

‘ _They didn’t have to go through it…they deserve to feel at least this…_ ’

“Well, if we’re all through with dinner, I trust none of you will mind if I go to bed – didn’t get much sleep last night, did I?” said Snape, standing up from the table. Harry’s hands shook as he wiped a plate clean.

“No, we don’t mind at all,” said Ron.

Snape glared at him. “Careful, Weasley. You are no longer my student.”

“If you’d be so kind as to take the last room, Snape,” said Remus firmly.

Snape gave a curt nod, then swept out of the room.

“Git,” Ron muttered.

Remus smiled tightly and said, “Let’s try to keep things civil, shall we?” He glanced up at the clock then turned to Tonks. “Time for bed then?”

Tonks popped the gum she’d been chewing and nodded. “Yup. Goodnight everyone. ‘Night, Harry,” she said, getting up and making her way out of the room. Everyone began to follow suit, stretching and exchanging last minute small talk. Remus walked up behind Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Would you like me to stay with you? I wish I could say you could room with Ron, but – under the circumstances–”

“I know,” said Harry shortly. He was getting a bit sick from Remus’ coddling words. Remus seemed to sense this and dropped his hand.

“Harry, I recognize that tone,” His manner was stern, reminding Harry of that night in third year when Remus had berated him for not turning in the Marauder’s Map. “You should not push me away, or anyone else for that matter. We are not at fault for Greyback’s actions.”

Harry said nothing, feeling his throat tightening with pent up words that would surely hurt Remus if he voiced them.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t need you out here.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, Harry,” said Remus, more gently.

Harry paused before saying quietly, “I just – I want to be alone right now, alright?”

Remus nodded and stepped back. “If the moon gets to be too much, I’d advise putting up a curtain at the window. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell someone. We’re all on your side, Harry.” With that said, he silently left the room.

“Goodnight, Harry,” he heard Hermione say softly.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Yeah, goodnight.”

A few moments later, the dishes were washed and put away and there was nothing left to occupy him. Despondently, Harry dragged his feet over to his bed beneath the window and began to change into his pajamas. After casting the necessary grooming spells, Harry extinguished the lights and climbed under his covers, wrapping them tightly around himself. Just around this time last night, he had been leaving the cottage in hopes of finding the locket… Harry’s eyes began to close, his lids flickering, then sealing against the darkness….

Suddenly, there was light all around him. It was overwhelmingly bright, cruel light that left Harry feeling stripped and raw. Then he heard howls – mournful, frightening howls. Harry began to run, desperate to get away, but the light followed him, exposing him to an entity that was catching up…

“No!” he shouted. Barking laughter filled his ears, and he cried out as he was crushed to the ground underneath the heaving body. His clothes were torn away like tissue paper, and the light of the moon seemed to paralyze him as his body was assaulted with hungry licks raining down on his skin. He curled away, whimpering, but clawed hands pulled him roughly to his back, and his legs were shoved apart, and then he felt that light _inside_ him, and he screamed and arched into the night, howls all around and in him–

Harry’s eyes flew open as an orgasm ripped through him, and he covered his mouth as he screamed. His thighs trembled with effort to control himself, but it was no use, and his hips writhed as he came again and again inside his pajamas. Outside, a howl met his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, a sob passing through his lips.

Several minutes later, Harry finally stopped shaking and was able to sit up. He weakly grabbed at his wand on the bedside table and muttered a curtain into existence over the window. Almost instantly he felt relief and he heaved out a sigh. He looked down at his soaked pajamas in shame.

Was this what Remus had meant by 'effects'? Was this what the moon would do to him from now on?

 

*            *            *

 

In the hours of the early morning, before the sun rose, Harry continued to lay awake, afraid to fall asleep again and dream anything more. All was quiet outside except for the occasional howl. Each time Harry heard the sound, he shivered. He wondered what was happening to the werewolf outside. Was the man going crazy like the one Hermione had read about?

Besides the dream, Harry was also experiencing intense restlessness and unexpected guilt. At first he had no idea why he was feeling this way. Then, he noticed a sliver of light against his pillow. It was the moon, he realized, peeking through the curtain. Harry instantly understood the way Remus had spoken of it, describing the moon as though it was a person. Harry felt a nagging sensation, as though the moon was telling him that he should be outside and appeasing Greyback’s distress, which disgusted Harry to his core. Another howl rent through the air outside, and Harry groaned.

‘ _Why couldn’t he just shut up_?’ Harry thought angrily. It wasn’t as though howling like that was going to get him anything.

Crazily, Harry decided he would go out and tell him so. He was tired and wanted to get some sleep, and the werewolf’s carrying on had to stop if that was going to happen. Harry jammed his feet into his shoes, threw his Invisibility cloak over his shoulders, and slipped out through the door, wand in hand.

The moonlight twinkled above him, pleased.

Harry crept towards the paddock as silently as he could. The moon illuminated the werewolf, who was slumped against one corner of the fence, his back to Harry.

“I can smell and hear you, you foolish pup.”

Harry froze instantly, clutching at his cloak.

Greyback turned to face him, shifting to his knees and grasping at the fence.

“Take that damned thing off,” he growled.

Harry kept still for a few more moments, then revealed himself shakily. Greyback gave a pleased grunt, then sat back on his heels, his gleaming yellow eyes assessing him.

“I could smell you before, you know,” he said, his gaze raking Harry’s body. “What were you doing in there – pulling at yourself?”

Harry gasped and stumbled back. The werewolf’s amused laugh hit his body harshly. Greyback’s eyes trailed down from his face to his groin, and the werewolf inhaled deeply as though he could still smell the evidence of Harry’s orgasm.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said with a wicked grin. “How wet did you get?”

Harry gasped again, then turned and fled, Greyback’s barking laughs following him all the way back to the cottage.  

           

           

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from LeAnn Rimes' song, "Can't Fight the Moonlight"… the lyrics fit surprisingly well ;) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! We shall see how much longer Harry can resist… also "Wrong" should be updated soon.


	5. Let's Make a Deal

The next morning found Harry bleary eyed and deeply unsettled. Once the sun had risen properly, he got up and dressed for the day, then set the table for breakfast and began to cook a large pan of eggs on the stove. Hermione was the first to arrive from her room.

“Good morning…,” she said timidly. “How did you sleep?”

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” said Hermione. She twisted her hands awkwardly for a moment, then shook herself and bustled around the kitchen cabinets, pulling out cups and tea leaves, then she set a large pot of water to boil.

“Don’t worry about me, Hermione,” said Harry quietly as they stood next to each other by the stove. “I’ll be okay.”

Hermione nodded quickly, but her face was still pinched. They both turned as Remus made his way into the room, Tonks trailing behind him.

“Wotcher, Harry. Morning, Hermione,” said Tonks, sitting down.

“How was your night, Harry?” asked Remus, eyes focused. Harry felt suddenly like one of the creatures that Remus had kept in the tanks in his office. He shrugged, not wanting to make a scene in front of Tonks and Hermione. In truth, he wanted to throw himself at Remus’ feet and beg him to take back everything he had told him about werewolves. He wanted the sun to stay up forever, he wanted to never have ventured into that cave, he wanted Dumbledore never to have died…. Instead, he avoided Remus’ eyes as he dished out scrambled eggs and sausages.

It wasn’t until after everyone finished eating and Remus mentioned that he was going to offer some food to Greyback that Harry began to fidget.

“Er, Remus?” he asked quietly while the others cleared the table. “Can I go ask with you?”

Remus’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would you want to do that? Are you alright?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s just… I didn’t get much sleep last night. You know, with the moon and all. I think if I just saw him for a minute, I’d feel better.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

Harry shook his head again, eyes lowered. “It’s more like…like that feeling you get when you know you were supposed to do something, but you didn’t – and now you feel guilty about it….” Harry bit his lower lip. “That didn’t make sense, I know, but–”

“It’s alright, Harry,” said Remus kindly. “I understand. Let’s go.”

A few moments later they approached the paddock together. Harry saw the werewolf once again sitting in the corner of the fence with his back turned on them.

“Good morning, Greyback,” said Remus. Greyback simply grunted.

“Would you like some breakfast?” asked Remus, voice injected with forced brightness.

“Is that what the pup is doing with you?” Greyback growled, twisting his neck to see Harry. “You’re offering me a quality breakfast?”

Harry couldn’t help but take a step towards Remus, but he shot the werewolf a defiant glare. Greyback chuckled lowly.

“You must be hungry, Greyback,” Remus continued as though he hadn’t heard. “What would you like…eggs? Ham? Bacon?”

Greyback screwed up his face in revulsion. “You should know by now that my tastes run more… _raw_.” His eyes shifted back to Harry, and he licked his lips. Harry shrank back again, feeling sick.

“A raw steak will have to do,” snapped Remus, losing patience.

Greyback glared, but then let out a clipped, “Fine.”

Remus turned to Harry. “Would you like to go back in, Harry? I can finish this up.”

“No,” said Harry, plucking up his nerve. He needed more time. “I’ll wait here; you go get the steak – I’ll be fine.”

Greyback watched the exchange with interest, rising to his knees and grasping the fence as he had last night. Remus gave them a parting look, then turned on his heel and headed back to the cottage. Harry bit his lips nervously and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“She was pretty hard on you last night, wasn’t she?” asked Greyback once Remus had gotten far enough away.

Harry didn’t need to ask who ‘she’ was; the moon’s authority was one of a mother’s – Harry wasn’t sure how he knew this, as he’d never had a real mother, but after observing Mrs. Weasley and her rein over her many children, Harry had a good enough idea as to what it must feel like.

“What about you?” Harry asked, his voice almost a whisper. It seemed surreal to be talking to the man who had attacked him so recently.

“Ah, it was torture,” said Greyback raggedly, looking towards the sky. “It felt like getting whipped over and over. She was punishing me. I lost you, after all.”

Harry hugged himself tighter. “What do you mean, you ‘lost’ me?”

Greyback flexed his biceps as he pulled himself forward and back, rocking on his knees. “I guess I didn’t lose you. Snape took you so it wasn’t really my fault…she doesn’t think so, though.”

“Snape saved me,” said Harry, his voice strangled.

“If he hadn’t come, you’d be mine – I’d have you and I wouldn’t be stuck in this bleeding cage.” Greyback’s lips were pulling back in a scowl, revealing his sharp-yellowed teeth. The sight of them brought back the phantom sensation of roughness grazing across his neck, and Harry couldn’t hold back anymore.

“But I don’t want to be yours!” he burst out, tears flowing freely for the first time since he had been attacked. He wanted to vomit, to scream. “You’re a _monster_ , you raped me–”

“I may be a monster,” Greyback roared, jumping to his feet. “But I didn’t rape you – you _belong_ to me–”

“No!” Harry shouted.

“Yes!” Greyback snarled, teeth exposed and spit flying. “And I’ll get out of here soon enough! The others will come for me, and then your little friends will be dead, and you’ll be mine–”

“What?” Harry asked, eyes widening, tears stopping almost immediately. “What did you say – what others?”

Greyback smiled nastily. “Haven’t you been paying any attention, boy? Or have you only been thinking about yourself?”

Harry wiped the tears from his face and looked up at Greyback through the fence. Greyback must have enjoyed his attention because he kept talking, still leering. “The cave you stumbled into – it’s the entrance to my pack’s new hideout. We live underground right in this forest. You have no idea how close you are to an army of us _monsters_. They’ll come for me.”

Harry gazed up at him in horror. Greyback kept his eyes locked on Harry’s, and they stared at each other in silence until they heard the footfalls of Remus hurrying to get to them, the man’s hands outstretched holding a plate.

“Harry!” Remus shouted, his voice puffing. He dropped the plate onto the grass and the bloody steak it had been transporting almost slipped off. Remus grabbed Harry by the shoulders, hauling him close. “Harry, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have left you as long as I–”

“Don’t baby him, Lupin, he’s fine,” said Greyback harshly, eyeing the steak.

Harry huddled in Remus’ embrace, deaf to the man’s alarmed voice.

“Harry, what happened, what did he say–”

“Damn you, Lupin, give me the steak–”

“I’m not giving you anything, Greyback!” Remus bellowed in a voice like nothing Harry had ever heard before. It snapped Harry back to the present, and he said quietly but firmly, “Give him his breakfast, Remus. Please, I want to go inside.”

Remus stared at Harry’s tear-streaked face for a moment, then turned to the fallen steak. Almost with a bit of confusion, he picked up the plate and slid it under the flap at the bottom of the paddock door. Greyback scooped up the steak with his claws, then bit into it savagely and turned his back on the pair. Harry watched the scarred, pale werewolf for a few seconds longer, then began to walk to the cottage, Remus’ arm wrapped protectively over his shoulders.

 

*          *          *

 

“Well, his story checks out,” said Tonks, plopping down into a chair, closely followed by Charlie. “There’s a new guard in the cave already.”

“How did you get close enough to see him? Wouldn’t he have smelled you?” asked Hermione, pouring them both some tea.

“Anti-odor charm,” said Charlie smugly. “We use it in Romania when we stake-out the dragons.”

“And it was a her, not a him,” added Tonks. “Anyone you know, Remus?”

“Describe her,” said Remus, sitting at the table.

“Slim,” said Charlie, looking thoughtful. “But strong looking. She looked around thirty maybe. Long, silver hair.”

“Sounds like Vadania Nestrobber,” said Remus, running a hand over his face tiredly.

“That’s quite a name,” said Ron, chewing on an apple.

“They all have names like that,” sighed Remus. “It’s Greyback’s way of shedding everything human. The pack names each member according to some trait. I’ve said before that Greyback believes biting children while they’re young, then brainwashing them against wizards and humans alike is the way to go. Vadania Nestrobber has stolen the most children, more than the rest of the werewolves combined… Essentially, she robs nests…hence the name,” Remus trailed off, looking ashamed, as though the other werewolf’s behavior was somehow his own fault.

“Greyback said they’d come looking for him,” said Harry, leaning his elbows on the table. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, but had wasted no time in warning the others to what Greyback had revealed to him.

The next few hours were filled with a relentless exchange of strategies if the werewolves attacked. As Harry listened to idea after idea, his own began to buzz in his head. He wanted to suggest his plan, but he also knew that Remus would never let him carry it out, as it involved major sacrifice on his part and required a frightening amount of trust in Greyback. As soon as dinner was over, he came to a decision. After telling Ron and Hermione to cover for him, he put on his Invisibility cloak once more, and slipped out of the cottage.

As he walked the distance to the paddock, Harry mulled over his plan. Yes, he was terrified of Greyback, but he cared about the lives of his friends more than his own. The threat of vicious, Voldemort-supporting werewolves, in human form or not, was enough to snap Harry out of his near-breakdown state, and realize the advantage he had over Greyback: as much as the werewolf snarled and threatened Harry, Greyback still needed him.

“What are you doing back, Potter?” said Greyback on his arrival. “I thought you’d all be long gone by now.”

Harry dropped the cloak. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “But you are.”

Greyback turned and looked at him. “Oh? And where are you all hiding me?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not going to hide you. I…I’m going to let you go.”

This caught Greyback’s attention, and he swiveled on his knees to look at Harry.

Harry swallowed, then continued. “I will let you go, and you will go back to the cave. You’ll tell your werewolf friends that you’re fine, that you’re just exploring the area. Then you’ll come back… and you won’t hurt any of us.”

Greyback was smiling at him now, his teeth bright in the growing darkness. “And why would I do that?”

Harry gulped. This was the part he’d been dreading, but the thought that his friends could end up marred like Bill or worse spurred him to continue. “I’ll…I’ll give you…what you want.”

Greyback leered, nostrils flaring. “And what is it that I want?”

Harry’s voice seemed to freeze in his throat. “You know,” he said finally. “And…and afterwards you’ll come back, and you’ll answer our questions whenever I – er, yeah.”

“One thing at a time, boy,” Greyback growled. “You give me what I want, and I’ll let the pack know I’m alright. As for coming back, I don’t have much choice, do I? The Mother Moon will see to it that I’m not away from you for long.” Greyback paused, his eyes flickering from Harry to the cottage. “Your keeper doesn’t know you’re out here.”

It wasn’t a question, so Harry said nothing.

“When are you going to let me out?”

Harry fidgeted. He wanted to put it off for as long as possible, but who knew when Remus would check up on him?

“I suppose...now would be a good time,” said Harry, his voice trembling. He avoided making eye contact with Greyback, whose pupils had begun to dilate.

“Then let me out,” Greyback rasped. Harry’s hand shook as he aimed his wand at the lock on the cage door.

“Remember,” he said softly. “You can’t hurt me.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. Greyback growled, muscles bunching in anticipation.

The silent spell flowed from Harry’s wand, and the lock clicked open.

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir’s nostrils flared at the overwhelming smell of fear radiating off the boy. He pushed open the paddock gate, then took a crouched step forward and grabbed the boy’s upper arm in his clawed hand and began hauling him off towards the trees.

“You said you’d give me what I want,” said Fenrir, his cock already swelling with arousal, bobbing between his legs. “And right now, I want your pretty ass.”

The boy said nothing to this, merely panted with the effort to keep up as Fenrir led him under the cover of the trees.

“But – we have to be quick,” said Harry. “Remus – he’ll come after me soon –”

Fenrir let out a hoarse laugh as he tossed Harry lightly to the ground. The boy quickly spread out his Invisibility cloak over the dirt and leaves. Fenrir reached down for his t-shirt but the boy flinched away and took it off himself before dropping it to the side. Fenrir huffed and kneeled down on the grass beside him, pushing Harry onto his back.

“Just be careful – go slow–”

Fenrir bared his teeth in a feral smile as he straddled his mate’s young body. The boy was staring at the ceiling of the trees with a fixed expression and he inhaled sharply when Fenrir yanked at the buttons of his jeans, but he didn’t complain. Fenrir leaned over him and goose bumps rose on the boy’s arms as Fenrir lowered his mouth to his pale throat.

“Been wanting to do this ever since I heard you last night...” Fenrir growled, nuzzling at the warm skin. “You sounded so _good_ ….”

The boy whimpered and shut his eyes tight. Fenrir reached up and plucked off the boy’s glasses and dropped them onto the discarded t-shirt, then moved his clawed hand down Harry’s chest and stomach, stopping when he reached denim.

“Take these off.”

Harry opened his eyes and unclenched handfuls of the cloak to pull down his zipper. Fenrir licked his teeth and his chest heaved with rumbling breaths as he watched impatiently. The boy lifted his hips to pull down his jeans and underwear then kicked them off, gasping shakily now that he was naked. Fenrir let out a slow, satisfied groan at the sight of the boy’s revealed half-hard erection between his smooth thighs. He knew his mate wanted him despite his shy act….

“Turn over,” he grunted, reaching down to his own cock to give it a few reassuring strokes.

The boy hesitated for a few seconds, ducking his head in embarrassment, then rolled to his stomach, resting his forehead on his arms. Fenrir growled and roughly repositioned the boy’s thighs so that he could kneel between them. He saw the boy flinch as Fenrir leaned over his body.

“Calm down,” he grunted, annoyed. “I won’t mount you tonight.”

The boy shifted beneath him, sniffling. Fenrir bent his head to deliver a slow, heavy lick across the small of the trembling boy’s back. He looked at the curve of his mate’s ass and couldn’t help but silently thank the Mother Moon for giving him such a beauty of a mate, then nuzzled the supple flesh with his nose.

“If you want to make this easier on yourself, spread your legs a bit more,” he rasped, nipping at a cheek.

The boy didn’t move. Fenrir let out an agitated puff, then gripped the boy’s hips and pulled him up, positioning him on widespread knees. Fenrir reached between Harry’s thighs from behind and wrapped his hand around the boy’s cock, delighted at the yelp that graced his ears. Smirking devilishly, he flexed his hand as he leaned down to lick at his pup’s quivering ass. He nipped at it, then he grasped the soft flesh with his other hand and leaned in to deliver a rough lick to the boy’s exposed hole. His little mate immediately began to squirm and whine at the sensation. Fenrir huffed against the boy’s hole in laughter and squeezed tighter around his cock. This pup was so _delicious_.

“Oh, I know you want it, puppy,” Fenir growled, his voice deep. “Know how I know? You’re winking at me.”

The boy moaned and buried his face in his cloak, but his cock was dripping in Fenrir’s hand. Fenrir continued to stroke him and lapped his strong, wet tongue against the boy’s sweet hole. The Mother Moon’s light caressed his back, egging them on.

“Come on,” Fenrir panted, nose to his mate’s skin. “Let me hear you, I want to hear you–”

The boy moaned, wantonly arching his hips back. Fenrir grabbed at his own cock and roughly pulled as he licked further and further into the body that was his to play with. Soon he was pulling and squeezing both of their cocks, not having to hold the boy down. His pup seemed willing enough, panting and writhing against his silly magic cloak.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Fenrir murmured encouragingly, moving up the boy’s body to nip an earlobe. “Just like that.”

Fenrir pressed his bulk down onto his mate and slid his hard cock up in between the boy’s cheeks, making sure to rub against the tight hole. The boy began to shake violently underneath him, but he soon arched his ass back against Fenrir’s cock in what felt like acceptance. Fenrir snarled. He wanted to fuck the boy, to complete their bond properly but he’d promised he wouldn’t, not tonight. Instead Fenrir began to rut back and forth, his cock snug between the boy’s thighs, nudging at the back of his mate’s balls. Spilling his seed on the boy and rubbing his scent into his skin would have to be enough for now. He watched as his cock passed over the boy’s pretty hole again and again.

“When I get back…,” he growled. “Gonna use this hole… gonna breed you proper.”

His mate whined and suddenly came beneath him, shaking and spurting all over his magic cloak. Fenrir roared and picked up his pace, rutting hard. He reached down and pressed his wet cock head right up against his mate’s clenched hole. He imagined pushing inside the boy, forcing his cock past that tight ring and hearing his mate squeal, feel him struggle to take him…. it was enough to bring Fenrir to orgasm. Hot seed spurted out of his cock and Fenrir aimed it to mark all over his mate’s ass and the back of his thighs.

The boy lay still as Fenrir caught his breath above him. Fenrir reached down and sloppily rubbed his seed into the boy’s skin, then collapsed beside him and rolled to his side. He pulled the boy against his body, spooning tightly behind him, then nosed at the back of his mate’s neck and began to lap at the sweaty skin.

“Lovely, lovely…”

His mate wriggled uncomfortably against him. Fenrir looked through the hair that had gotten into his eyes to see the slender curve of the boy’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but lick at him there too, tangy sweat settling on his tongue. He saw the boy’s face scrunch up from the side and he grinned at his mate’s discomfort. It was so amusing, how he tried to fight it. He nuzzled at the boy’s ear affectionately, wrapping his strong arms around him, and was content to lounge there like that for hours, but then his sensitive nose picked up on something.

“Fuck,” he spat.

“What?” his mate asked nervously. 

Fenrir released his hold on the boy and sat up slowly. “Your bloody dog is coming.”

Harry bristled and sat up as well. Fenrir chuckled as he saw the little shake of fury – the boy had been totally mortified seconds ago, and now he was back to his righteous self, quick as a rabbit’s leap.

“I should go,” Fenrir rasped, his ears alert to the sound of the other wolf’s footsteps. 

“Well go,” said Harry shortly, reaching for his shirt. “Remus will be here soon.”

Fenrir looked at him appraisingly, then slowly crept on all fours towards him, pushing him down and completely covering him again.

“Wait, hey!” said Harry, panicked, pushing at him. “He’ll see you, you should go–”

Fenrir interrupted him with a long, heavy lick to the side of his face, effectively silencing Harry.

“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest,” he rumbled, eyes losing their usual harshness. “Before the moon rises tomorrow night. You’ll be alright until then?”

His mate stared up at him with wide eyes, then nodded hesitantly. Fenrir looked intently at his face, setting it to memory, then backed off and turned into the forest and disappeared into the trees.

 

*          *          *

 

“Sick! That’s how worried I was. Sick!” Remus shouted as he steered a brooding Harry back to the cottage.

“I did what I had to do,” said Harry, starting to get angry. Didn’t Remus have any gratitude at all?

“Harry,” said Remus, looking lost for words. “Harry, he could go and bring the whole pack down on us –”

“He won’t,” said Harry. He knew Greyback wouldn’t…not after that look the werewolf had given him… that look that said it would be torture to be away from him....

“Harry, you can’t know that.”

“Remus, stop!” Harry shouted, jerking away from his grasp. “There are a lot of things I don’t know, but I know he can’t hurt me or he’ll go mad! If he tells his pack we’re here, they’ll attack – I could be killed – so he won’t tell, he can’t. Besides, he said he’s coming back tomorrow, and he’ll probably answer our questions if I – do things – with him again,” Harry finished, wrapping his arms around himself defensively.

Remus stared at Harry with wide, incredulous eyes. “Harry…you must know I can’t possibly let you do that again.”

Harry bit his lip, frustrated tears threatening to fall. “Remus, you make it sound like I _want_ to do this. I don’t! But it’s the best way – and as much as it makes me sick to say it, I feel better after having done it. The moon’s not angry with me now, she’s – it’s satisfied.”

Before Remus could respond, Harry turned and hurried up the cottage steps, leaving him alone in the darkness.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait between posts… been going through a lot of life changes. Thank you so much for your patience and continued interest in this story!


	6. The Night Is Gonna Get To You

Fenrir slowed his pace as he crossed into his territory. He could smell Vadania Nestrobber’s scent on the wind. He heard the lightest crunch of leaves and sticks on the forest floor, a sound that would have been inaudible to a normal human, and then she appeared suddenly at his side from the trees.

“Fenrir,” she breathed in relief, her pale face flushed. “Where have you been?”

Fenrir shook his mane of grey-streaked hair. “Caught a whiff of something I wanted to check up on.” He pushed past her and continued his trek to the cave, the silver-haired she-wolf at his heels.

“Was it humans? Wizards?”

Fenrir shook his head again, the lie ready on his lips. “It was a small pack of werewolves. Loners probably.”

“Bloodjaw was very… anxious about where you’d run off to,” said Vadania, eyes narrowed as she walked beside him.

Fenrir appeared unconcerned, but grunted, “Meaning?"

“He started up rumors that something had happened to you, but he was saying to others that it wasn’t right for the pack leader to take off without telling anyone where he was going. He kept saying that we should think about who should take over.”

Fenrir’s smile was twisted. “And he wants to take over, does he?”

“He didn’t say so – but I’ve never seen him so motivated about anything. I was hoping to find you before anything happened.”

Nothing more was said as they neared the hidden cave. The scuttling footsteps of Simon Bent-tail, a Muggle werewolf, greeted them as they approached.

“Greyback!” the pale man exclaimed. “You’re alive!”

“Good eyes on you,” Fenrir growled, pushing past the cowering yet exuberant Muggle-werewolf. Sometimes Fenrir regretted biting this one….

“Bloodjaw was saying you might not be and we were worried and we thought we should vote on what to do, but I wasn’t sure, I _told_ Bloodjaw it was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t listen–”

“Can you blame him, fool?” Fenrir snarled, swatting at the annoying whelp. Bent-tail let out a yip but he managed to duck out of the way and hurriedly took his place respectfully behind his leader as they entered the cave.

Fenrir strode towards the back of the cavern and stomped a heavy foot against a dark patch of dirt designed to go unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know to look for it. The ground rumbled beneath them and, like a Muggle lift, the dirt patch began to sink into the floor, lowering Fenrir and his pack members until they disappeared from above ground. As the dirt sank, a stone tunnel was revealed, and Fenrir’s golden eyes quickly adjusted to the dim passageway lit only with the occasional torch. He stepped off the dirt and entered the tunnel, and the two werewolves followed. The sound of roars reached their ears as they walked, and Fenrir sped up his pace. He arrived into the main den and he bared his teeth at what he saw.

Flickering light bounced off the hollowed walls of the den, and his werewolves – rough-looking men and women, and several children – were all facing the middle of the cavern, jeering. On a raised platform, normally inhabited by Greyback during pack gatherings, were two male werewolves snarling at each other, seconds away from a fight. One was pale and gangling with matted, dirty blonde hair while the other was small and broad with olive skin and slick black hair.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Immediately, all of the shouting and snarling stopped. The werewolves froze in their places, and the tall, blonde werewolf sagged in defeat. The other werewolf looked relieved, and he stepped away from the platform and approached Fenrir, head bowed. He dropped to his knees and rolled to his back, exposing his stomach in submission. There were fresh scratches across his abdomen, and Fenrir let out a huff and pulled the man to his feet.

“Blackmane, I expected better,” he growled. The werewolf who was called Lawcian Blackmane lowered his eyes.

“Bloodjaw thought we needed a new leader… I didn’t think so… he challenged me to fight.”

Devis Bloodjaw, still scowling on the platform, sank to his knees and glared at the stone floor. Fenrir walked slowly towards the dirty blonde wolf, an amused smile on his face.

“Devis, always the ambitious one,” he said, chuckling darkly.

Devis hunched his shoulders. “You were gone with no warning. I thought something happened to you.”

Fenrir grasped the man’s shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “If I had been dead, I would have wanted someone to take over, but not your pale hide,” he said with a laugh. Devis flushed, but kept his eyes lowered. When he did not respond, Fenrir slapped him across the back and said, “Go take care of those scratches, Bloodjaw. I’ll meet with you and the rest of the Core in an hour.”

Devis nodded jerkily, then pushed through the curious onlookers to one of the many tunnels branching off from the den. Fenrir watched him go, then turned to Vadania and muttered, “Call the Core, get them together. We’ve got to talk.”

 

*            *            *

 

Fenrir watched with narrowed eyes as his Core prowled into the small council den. Among them were the most ferocious, cunning, and strongest werewolves of his pack. The Core served as a council to Fenrir, but it was Fenrir who held the power – power that apparently was being sought after. The other werewolves caught a glimpse of Fenrir’s fierce expression and quickly seated themselves at a roughly carved wooden table.

“So… I’m gone for a few days and you all fall apart?”

The werewolves shifted guiltily at Fenrir’s rumbling drawl.

“Have you forgotten? A new Alpha rises only when one defects – which has never happened and _won’t_ happen – or when one dies by challenge or otherwise. Seeing as how I’m not dead,” Fenrir continued, “the only way a new Alpha will come around is if I’m challenged…and I lose.” He paused, his eyes sweeping the table and resting on Devis Bloodjaw, who avoided his gaze. “Is there anyone here who is not satisfied with me? Speak up!”

Devis remained silent, as did the rest of the Core. Lawcian looked noticeably comforted.

“Good,” Fenrir growled. “Now that’s out of the way then. Time to talk about where I went… and where I’m going.”

A tremor of interest went through the assembled werewolves. Fenrir took a deep breath. He’d been fabricating this lie for the better part of his journey back to the cave, and hoped to the Moon that it worked. He’d already lied to Vadania, but he knew if she found out the truth, she’d understand.

“I caught the scent of what might be a nearby pack.”

Instantly, the werewolves began to murmur amongst themselves.

“Have you met with them?” asked Lawcian.

“Probably traitors like that Lupin,” growled Amaryllis Longfang, a dark-skinned werewolf with a crimped mane of black hair.

“Maybe, Amaryllis,” said Fenrir. The she-wolf gave Fenrir a look that could only be described as lustful as she was acknowledged. “But maybe not, and we could always use more allies. The Dark Lord wants our numbers as strong as possible. I’m going to watch them for a few days. We need to decide who is in charge while I’m gone.”

Silence met this statement. Devis shifted around in his seat.

“Come on now, I want to hear from you! It’s about time I learned which of you is actually smart,” said Fenrir, sitting down in his chair and leaning back. Instantly, snarled whispers began as the Core debated amongst themselves. Fenrir watched carefully even though his posture remained aloof. Vadania was not suggesting herself but was protesting against Devis’ self-nomination, along with about half of the Core. Fenrir briefly considered Lawcian Blackmane – he was the most intelligent – but then Fenrir decided this would only bring more problems from Devis since they had already come to blows.

“Ah, enough,” Fenrir hollered over the din. “Nestrobber is in charge while I’m gone.”

Vadania nodded dutifully. Devis looked furious. Fenrir smiled.

“Now… here’s what is going to happen while I’m gone…”

 

*            *            *

 

By the time the meeting broke up, it was past midnight. Fenrir still needed to address the rest of the pack in the morning, but now alone in his own den, Fenrir had time to rest and think about Harry.

The fact that his mate was Harry Potter, the “Chosen One”, had been admittedly slow to get to his brain, but Fenrir was beginning to realize the consequences. The Dark Lord wanted Harry Potter dead, and so it was simple: he could no longer be loyal to the Dark Lord. However, getting away from the evil wizard and his Death Eaters would be complicated and dangerous, and he wasn't sure he truly wanted to. After all, the Dark Lord had not only promised him future pack mates, but also freedom to live as he wanted in exchange for his allegiance. Now that life he dreamed of looked further away than ever. Fenrir would be a marked man, possibly by both sides of this war, once it got out that he had taken Harry as his mate. His pack would also be at risk, and would possibly even run him off the territory for this…. Vadania Nestrobber and Lawcian Blackmane would stay loyal to him along with their bitten progeny, but would the rest?

A scratch at the hide hanging over his den entrance drew him from his thoughts. Fenrir climbed off his furs and pushed the deerskin aside to reveal Amaryllis Longfang lounging against the curved stone of the tunnel, her hips pitched forward suggestively.

“Why’d you give the job to her?” she pouted, her voice low and husky. “You like her better than me?”

Fenrir grinned at her indulgently. “Vadania is practically a mother already. She’ll take good care of everyone.”

Amaryllis pursed her full lips and her golden eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “I don’t need a mum, Fenrir… but I wouldn’t say no to a daddy….”

Fenrir grimaced. Only days ago he would have taken the willing she-wolf to the dirt, but the memory of Harry’s scent seemed to fill his nostrils.

“I’m sure Bloodjaw would love to be a father,” said Fenrir, turning away.

Behind him, he heard her sputter. “What do you mean by that?”

Fenrir went to pull a wizarding robe over his naked body, ignoring the constricting feeling of the clothing. It was the same robe he had worn the night of the battle at Hogwarts, the same robe he had worn when he first got a glimpse of the Potter boy. He had thrust him to the ground, ready to maul him, but the boy had gotten away. Not the second time though…. Fenrir licked his lips as he remembered. He’d be seeing his sweet pup soon–

“Fenrir!”

Amaryllis’ lip was curled now, upset at being ignored. Her long nails curved like bird talons, and her body was bent forward. Fenrir turned to face her, unimpressed with her challenging posture.

“You want me,” she murmured, nostrils flaring as she sniffed. “I can smell it. You’re ready for me–”

“It’s not you I’m ready for, Longfang. Go on back to your den.” 

“What?” she cried. “Who are you smelling like that for? What, does that pack you found have some whore–”

The she-wolf’s angry words were silenced abruptly when Fenrir slapped her across the face. She yelped in shock and pain and cupped shaking hands to her bleeding mouth. Her angry eyes met Fenrir’s icy stare.

_“How dare you look at me!”_ Fenrir snarled, his voice sounding inhuman. Amaryllis dropped her eyes to the ground and crouched submissively, her mouth twisted at the bitter taste of her own blood. “Don’t forget your place, Longfang! I’m your Alpha. You don’t question me!”

Amaryllis continued to be silent, and Fenrir grabbed her roughly by the hair. “And I wouldn’t insult whores, Longfang,” he growled into her ear. “After all, isn’t that what you are?” He pushed her away and left her hunched against the wall.

 

*          *          *

 

It was slightly before noon the next day as Fenrir approached the invisible cottage. He was tired and hot. He hadn’t rested since he’d left that morning and the black wizarding robe was making him sweat. ‘ _That pup better pay up_ ,’ he thought gruffly. He halted as the air shimmered in front of him and the cottage appeared. Fenrir grinned when he saw a tuft of black hair in the window duck out of sight. So, the boy was waiting for him….

The door of the cottage opened and Lupin, Snape, and the dragon wrangler trickled out slowly, wands drawn. Fenrir raised his arms in surrender. 

“I’m not going to do anything, fools,” he grunted. If they Stunned him again, he’d kill them as soon as he woke up.

“We can’t know that, Greyback,” said Lupin, eyes hard.

“I give you my word – I won’t attack any of you.”

Snape gave a harsh laugh. “Your word, wolf? What good is that?”

Fenrir smirked at him. “Well, you would know all about making promises and swearing oaths wouldn’t you, Snape?”

“Which is why we’re not trusting you, Greyback,” said Lupin.

Fenrir fumed for a moment, then barked, “So what are you going to do? Put me back in that cage?”

“Sounds good to me,” said the Weasley.

Fenrir clenched his jaw and rasped, “I’ve made a promise with the boy, Lupin. I said I wouldn’t hurt anyone. It should be enough that _Harry Potter_ trusts me.”

“Unfortunately, Harry’s judgment is compromised,” said Lupin. “He thinks that because you and he have some sort of…bribery situation going on, you will stick to your word, but I know better.”

“You don’t know me at all, Lupin,” Fenrir growled. “Just because you snuck around like some weasel among us doesn’t mean you know me!”

“I saw your dealings, Greyback,” said Lupin, raising his wand higher. “You are not an honest man.”

“This is different,” said Fenrir impatiently. “That boy is my _mate_. I’m not going to lie to him. Besides, if I hurt any of you, he wouldn’t let me near him – it doesn’t pay for me to hurt any of you.”

The Weasley raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lupin.

“And how do we even know you’re really his mate, Greyback?” Lupin asked, his wand hand beginning to shake and his voice climbing. “You could be lying, you could be doing this for sport–”

“Remus,” said Weasley gently. Lupin stopped and lowered his wand, panting slightly.

“Pull yourself together, Lupin,” Snape drawled, lowering his wand as well. “I know you thought you would always be the only wolf in the boy’s life, but really, it’s time to face reality.”

Lupin spun to Snape, wand pointed at his throat. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Shut it, you foul…”

Weasley quickly put a hand on Lupin’s arm and forcibly lowered the wand. Fenrir had the intense urge to say that Lupin was the one that belonged in the cage, but for once he controlled himself – Snape’s disgusted face already said it plainly enough.

The door flew open, and everyone turned to see Harry, looking greatly distressed. Fenrir took a step forward but instantly all wands were trained on him, and he didn’t move another inch.

“He won’t,” Harry muttered. “He said he wouldn’t – Remus – please….”

Lupin’s face twitched as if he were in pain, but he finally lowered his wand. The werewolf looked defeated and betrayed. Harry was shifting from one foot to the other guiltily. Apparently Fenrir was causing some kind of rift between the two, and he couldn’t pretend that he was upset about it.

“You must respect certain rules while you’re here, Greyback,” said Snape curtly. “You must do exactly what we tell you, when we tell you. You must not harm anyone. And you must keep that robe on.” He said the last rule rather snidely, as though walking around naked was a characteristic of the lowest life form.

“As long as you keep yours on," said Fenrir with his teeth bared in a cruel grin. Snape sneered and jerked his wand to indicate that Fenrir should enter the cottage. Harry backed in hurriedly, and Fenrir couldn’t help but lick his lips as he followed after him.

Inside the cottage, the other Weasley – Bill was his name – was standing at the table watching him steadily. There wasn’t a trace of fear about the man, and Fenrir couldn’t help but be mildly impressed. An Auror that Fenrir knew to be called Tonks was also standing. Harry was loitering on the threshold of what appeared to be a hallway to other rooms. Fenrir took in the cottage surroundings, and his eyes rested on a curtained off area. Behind it must have been where Harry slept because the scents wafting into the room from behind the curtain made Fenrir’s eyes flutter. The sound of the door closing broke Fenrir from his trance, and he confidently pulled out a chair from the table and sank down into it.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Bill muttered. Fenrir smiled his sharp-toothed smile at him, and then glanced at Harry. Charlie and Lupin remained standing somewhere behind him, but Bill and Tonks sat across from him as though they were about to interrogate him.

“Potter has told us that you agreed to answer our questions,” said Snape, sitting down next to him.

“Actually, I didn’t – that wasn’t part of our first deal.”

Snape shot a glare at Harry.

“Yes it was!” Harry burst out. He took a few daring steps closer, cheeks turning red. “You agreed you’d come back and answer our questions if I–”

“Ha!” Fenrir barked out. “I did no such thing, boy – I said I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and that I’d come _back_. I’ll be happy to work out a new arrangement,” he said with a leer at Harry, who stumbled away.

“I – I don’t want–”

Fenrir snarled, leaning forward aggressively. He didn’t even care that five wands were now pointed at him. He thought he had been admirably patient until this point, but if the pup was going to act like a sniveling runt, he’d let him have it. “You panted and whined like a bitch in heat when I tongue-fucked your ass, so _don’t_ tell me that you don’t want it, boy!”

“That’s enough!” Lupin roared, jabbing his wand against Fenrir’s throat. Harry appeared to have frozen in horror on the spot. Fenrir wiped some spit from his chin and leaned back angrily, ignoring the disapproving squeak of the chair legs.

“Harry, go,” said Lupin. “Go, we’ll take care of this….”

Harry backed up and hit the doorpost, then quickly turned and fled.

‘ _Fuck,_ ’ Fenrir thought.

 

*          *          *

 

“What happened, Harry?” asked Hermione, looking down at Harry as he sat on Ron’s bed. Ron, not used to the sight of tears on his friend’s face, had called her into the room as soon as Harry had burst through the door.

Harry shook his head at Hermione’s question and wiped at his face, trying to rid his mind of what Greyback had said – _in front_ of everyone, no less! It was too embarrassing to even think of.

“I – I don’t know what to do,” said Harry. “Voldemort is out there… we have to find the Horcruxes… and now this?”

Hermione and Ron shared a look, then Hermione sank onto the bed on Harry’s other side.

“I mean,” Harry continued, avoiding Ron’s gaze. “What about Ginny? I can’t be with her now. I can’t be with _anyone_ now – and – and Greyback’s a _man_ –”

“Harry, no one blames you for what happened,” said Hermione gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And…well, I’m sure Ginny will understand eventually…it couldn’t be helped.”

Ron cleared his throat and said gruffly, “I don’t know much about this mate business… but it sounds like… doesn’t that mean that you’re – I mean, if Greyback’s a bloke – which he is,” Ron was dark red now, struggling to continue. “Then well…it doesn’t sound like you were hitched together by accident,” he finished in a rush.

Harry stared at Ron, mild horror on his face. “So you think I’m – you’re saying I’m a….” Harry didn’t finish his sentence.

“Homosexual?” prompted Hermione.

Harry ducked his head. “Uncle Vernon called them poufs,” he muttered, scrubbing at his face.

“That’s not a polite term,” said Hermione, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “Not one of us thinks of you any less.”

“Fred and George might tease you for it,” said Ron, considering. Hermione glared at him and he hastily added, “They wouldn’t mean anything by it, Harry, they’d just be joking like always.”

Harry dropped his elbows to his knees and held his head in his hands miserably. “That’s not the worst of it,” he said.

Ron and Hermione shared another look over Harry’s head and Hermione began to rub her hand against his back in soothing circles.

“He’s terrible and cruel…but when we’re alone….” Harry winced as he remembered the night before, how easily he had surrendered.

“It’s alright, Harry,” said Hermione softly.

“I mean, blimey, if this had happened to me, I’d be screaming like a baby by now,” said Ron weakly.

“We’re here to listen, not judge,” said Hermione, removing her hand from his back and sitting patiently.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, “This morning, I felt better because… well, the moon let me sleep after we’d, er–”

“Shagged?” Ron asked.

Harry paled. “We didn’t – I mean, that’s not exactly what–”

“Keep going, Harry,” said Hermione. “Ignore Ron,” she added, shooting a scathing glare at the redhead, who had the decency to flush.

Harry sucked in a breath, then continued. “I felt better because the moon let up after that. And I’m afraid it’s going to be the same tonight. The light feels terrible, even when all the curtains are shut.”

“So it sounds like you’ll have to do it again,” said Ron after a moment of silence.

Harry stared at him. “But – I _can’t_ ,” said Harry. Didn’t anybody understand? The man was a monster!

“Harry,” said Hermione, a bit more reasonably. “It seems like that’s the only way to stop the effects of the moon. You need to keep up your strength. You need your strength to find the Horcruxes.”

“But it’s horrible!” said Harry, standing up.

“The sex is horrible, you mean?” asked Hermione. She was watching Harry carefully as she continued. “Or is it horrible because it’s not?”

Ron looked confused but Harry swallowed and sat down again.

“So you enjoy the sex, and that makes you feel ashamed,” Hermione prompted. She seemed determined to get Harry to continue talking.

“Yes.” Harry’s cheeks were red now, his voice barely audible.

“Harry, you shouldn’t feel ashamed for enjoying what Greyback makes you feel,” said Hermione. “It sounds like the moon has a say in this, and he is your mate, after all.”

Ron nodded, although he looked pained.

After several minutes of silence, Harry sighed heavily and whispered, “You’re right as always, Hermione…. Thanks.”

 

 

           

  

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments! I hope you enjoyed the original characters I created as well as the peek into werewolf politics. I made some minor changes from the 2005 version in their descriptions but nothing from the story is affected from those changes. 
> 
> Also more smut next chapter, I promise ;)


	7. Run Me Like a River

It was past dinnertime when Harry finally emerged from Ron’s room, ready to negotiate a new deal with Greyback. He was sharply surprised to see that the werewolf was not at the table.

“Where is he?” Harry asked Remus.

“Outside somewhere,” said Tonks, looking frustrated.

“He left awhile ago, Harry,” said Remus.

Harry tried to remain calm, but inside he was frantic; the moon was beginning to stir.

“Where did he go?”

“Don’t know,” said Charlie, scrubbing at his face with a sigh. “He didn’t say.”

“I’m going to find him,” said Harry, grabbing for his jacket.

“Harry, no,” said Remus, getting to his feet.

“Yes, Remus,” said Harry, pocketing his wand. “I need to! I have to work this out. Otherwise I’ll feel sick. Besides, I think he knows something that could help us,” he added lamely. Harry had no idea if this was true, but he needed to hold on to the possibility that he was letting Greyback touch him for the greater good and not simply his own selfish reasons.

Remus looked like he was going to protest further but then Tonks put a soft hand on his arm. Remus sighed and sat down in defeat. “Go then. If you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming after you.”

Harry nodded, then hurried out the door. He tried to ignore his flare of annoyance at getting a curfew as though he were heading out for a jaunt with a lover - and what if he needed longer than an hour? Didn’t Remus understand?

Greyback wasn’t too difficult to follow. Leaves were pushed out of the way on the forest floor, and low branches were broken to show a clear path. Obviously Greyback was confident that he could handle anything that tracked him. It wasn’t long before Harry heard the gentle trickling of a small river, and the trees finally cleared to reveal Greyback sitting on a log, naked once more with his feet in the slow moving water.

“I’ve got to admit, you’re pretty good at sneaking around, pup,” the werewolf grunted in greeting.

“Er, thanks. Lots of practice,” said Harry.

It was strange how much easier it was to be near Greyback when the moon was on his face. Harry stepped forward carefully and swung a leg over the log by the edge of the water, straddling it to face Greyback sideways. Beads of water were glistening on Greyback’s skin, dripping through his chest hair, and Harry swallowed.

“Been swimming?” he asked after a moment of silence. Harry was horrified to hear his voice come out at a higher octave and he shut his eyes.

Greyback grunted. “I needed to cool off,” he muttered.

Harry nodded and stared at the water to avoid the sight of the hulking, naked werewolf next to him. He wondered if he could satisfy the moon just by being close to Greyback for an hour… did he really need to do more?

“What are you doing out here, boy?”

Harry looked over to see Greyback glaring at him with yellow eyes. He gulped nervously.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

Greyback snorted. “You admit you did wrong, then?”

Harry couldn’t help but raise his chin defiantly at this. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just misunderstood what our bargain was.”

“Ah, I see,” said Greyback, gazing down at the water. Harry blinked. He’d expected Greyback to fight with him or mock him some more, but instead the man seemed to be content with ignoring him. Harry looked down at the log he was sitting on and began to trace the ridges in the wood. Insects chirped and frogs croaked as they sat in silence.

Suddenly, Greyback sat up straight. Harry tracked him with lowered eyes as the werewolf stretched his back, then slid off the log into the slow-moving water below. He was waist deep in it before he turned to look at Harry.

“You should come in,” the werewolf rasped.

Harry shook his head. Greyback fixed him with a commanding stare and began to move towards him.

“No, I – I don’t really like water too much,” said Harry as Greyback advanced on him. “I had this pretty awful experience in fourth year,” he babbled. “I had to get Ron away from the Merpeople in the lake – and there were Grindylows... probably a Giant Squid was in the water as well–”

“There aren’t any of those in here,” Greyback growled, reaching for him. “Just me.”

“Oh, is that all?” asked Harry sarcastically, trying to pull his leg out of Greyback’s reach.

“Come on,” said Greyback gruffly, pulling on Harry’s shoes, snagging his claws on the laces.

Harry huffed and tugged off his shoes and socks, then let his toes touch the water. He was surprised to feel that the temperature was pleasantly cool.

“I hope you didn’t think you were getting off that easy, boy,” said Greyback, reaching for Harry’s jeans. “You’re coming in.”

With the combined effort of Greyback and the encouraging rays of the moon, Harry soon found himself obeying. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his jeans, leaving them piled a little ways from the water’s edge. He stubbornly left his underwear on, and with a bit of trepidation, left his wand in his jeans. Greyback let out a pleased rumble when Harry finally stepped into the water, and Harry quickly submerged himself, not wanting to be exposed for too long. His comfort lasted only a few seconds before Greyback had him by the bicep and was pulling him to his chest. Greyback let out a whistle.

“You’re even lighter in the water, pup. I didn’t think that was possible.”

Harry shrugged, then yelped when he felt a sharp pinch to his bottom.

“At least you’ve got _some_ meat on you,” said Greyback, laughing deeply.

Harry’s cheeks burned, and he hid his face in the only place available, which was Greyback’s solid chest. Wet hair slid against his face and massive arms held him tightly. Harry trembled at the display of strength and burrowed closer.

“Hmm…you’re being sweet tonight.”

Harry flushed and tried to pull away, but Greyback tightened his hold and pushed a thick, powerful thigh in between Harry’s skinny ones. Harry gasped and clung to the werewolf’s shoulders, trying to support himself. Greyback growled and flexed his thigh, holding Harry by the hips and urging him to rock against him. Harry shuddered and moaned, throwing his arms around Greyback’s neck and burying his flaming face into the chest in front of him. Greyback let out another one of those shiver-inducing rumbles and grunted, “That’s more like it.”

It took only about a minute before Harry was panting and rutting against Greyback’s thigh. He felt Greyback’s own erection pulsing against his stomach, heavy and hard as steel, and he groaned as he pressed against it. They were both moving now – the water was sloshing around them, and Greyback’s nose was burrowing in his hair, sniffing. Did he really smell that good? Harry turned even redder as he remembered what Greyback had said about him earlier, about panting and whining like a bitch in heat – was that what he sounded like? Harry heard himself whimper and his hips snapped harder, pressing his erection against Greyback’s hip.

“That’s it, good pup,” said Greyback encouragingly.

“Gr – Greyback–” Harry panted, wanting to sound coherent and have something to say.

Greyback was letting out a continuous growl by now, grinding himself into Harry’s stomach, his hands wandering from Harry’s hips to his ass to his thighs, each stoke of his hands more possessive than the last, leaving Harry breathless.

“Call me Fenrir. Or Alpha.”

Harry’s eyes slid shut as the order was growled into his ear and he shuddered violently against the older man as his orgasm was ripped from his body. Greyback – Fenrir now – roared and thrust against Harry until he climaxed, his body heaving in the water.

Harry slowly came to and realized that his legs had somehow wrapped around the werewolf’s waist, and he disentangled himself carefully, wincing. His muscles felt well-used and all he wanted to do was sleep.

“That was quite a show,” said Fenrir, sounding smug. “She enjoyed it.”

“Don’t,” said Harry without any real force behind it. Fenrir laughed and pulled them towards the riverbank. Harry let himself be dragged through the water, his limbs still feeling loose. They got out languidly, and Harry dug through his jeans and pulled out his wand to cast a drying spell. He stepped into his clothes hazily while Fenrir pulled on his dark robe. It was pitch black around them except for the light emitted by Harry’s wand, but Harry felt unthreatened – he had quite the bodyguard for the venture back to the cottage. Nothing was said between them as they walked back, and Harry felt somehow content, as if he’d just eaten an extremely satisfying Hogwarts feast and he was on his way back to his dorm for bed.

Harry was shamefully pleased that Remus didn’t come storming out once they reached the cottage. He walked up the wooden steps, then stopped at the door and turned to see Fenrir, who was looking around.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked.

Fenrir shook his head, hair elongated by the water around his shoulders.

Harry bit his lip. “Then…where are you going?” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want Fenrir to go back the cave. It seemed so far….

Fenrir shrugged. “I’ll find someplace. Maybe I’ll sleep under here.” He kicked a foot in the direction of the space beneath the elevated cottage. It was directly under where Harry’s bed would be.

“Oh,” said Harry, feeling strange. “Okay then.” They stared at each other for a moment. Harry knew he should just turn around and go inside – but wasn’t something else supposed to happen?

Fenrir let out a huff, then started up the steps. Harry’s heart sped up. The werewolf was towering over him now, and Harry tilted his chin to see him. Fenrir lowered his face and butted his nose against Harry’s ear, then gave his cheek a hot lick. A tremor went through Harry’s entire body and he couldn’t help but lean in to nuzzle his own nose into grey-streaked hair even though it was wet. Fenrir pulled back, and Harry blinked drowsily.

_What was happening to him?_

“Go inside now,” said Fenrir. “I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

Harry nodded, not needing to ask who Fenrir meant, and Fenrir turned and jumped down the steps before crouching to investigate the crawlspace. Harry turned to the door, whispered “Pygmy Puffs”, then looked back to see Fenrir disappearing under the cottage. Harry shook his head, walked through the door, shut it, then leaned against it and let out an exhausted sigh. The sight of his bed illuminated by the moon drew him, and he only had time to pull off his shoes and socks before collapsing onto it, not even noticing Remus check up on him then pull the curtain around his bed. Golden eyes, low rumbles, and gentle licks filled his dreams.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Remus and Snape sat at the kitchen table with Harry, attempting to go over the various notes and clues they had so far about the whereabouts of the remaining Horcruxes. Remus massaged the bridge of his nose as though trying to stimulate patience; he had been trying to talk to Harry for several minutes, and was tired of monosyllable answers.

“Harry, you still haven’t explained why you thought a Horcrux was in that cave.”

Harry lifted his chin from his hand and turned his gaze from the window, a slightly dazed expression on his face. Snape snorted in irritation.

“Yes, also please explain why you foolishly acted before your entourage arrived,” sneered Snape.

Harry glared. “I’m not going to tell you anything, Snape.”

“That’s ‘Professor’ to you, Potter,” said Snape.

“I’m not in school anymore, _Snape_ , I can call you whatever the hell I want.”

Snape leaned forward across the table, an ugly snarl on his face. “Listen, you ungrateful brat, if it hadn’t been for me saving your hide _again_ , you’d be crawling on all fours after that mongrel–”

“Stop!” Remus shouted. “Severus, please.”

“If this is the way things are to be run, I can’t say I’ll be assisting much longer.”

“Good,” said Harry rudely, getting up and kicking his chair under the table. “I’ll talk to you later, Remus – when he’s gone.”

Remus let out an exasperated sigh as Harry left, slamming the door shut.

“Well, you messed that up, Severus,” said Remus, running his hand through his grey-flecked hair.

Snape made a dismissive noise in his throat. “You didn’t need my help to do that, Lupin. Your mollycoddling wasn’t helping.”

“I was doing no such thing.”

“If that’s the case, let him day dream about the beast as much as he wants.”

Remus glared. “He wasn’t daydreaming about him.”

“Oh no?” said Snape loftily. “I thought you knew your old friend’s son.”

There was nothing more to say. Remus’ eyes told all; he was deeply worried about Harry.

“Let’s get on with it,” Remus murmured, picking up one of Sirius Black’s old journals from Grimmauld place.

The two old school rivals continued their research, deliberately not looking out the window where Harry was once again alone with Greyback.

 

* * *

 

Outside, Fenrir was sunbathing in nothing but a pair of old denim shorts from the Dragon Tamer. His mate was sitting on the steps, chin in his hands and watching him.

“What’d you come out for this time?” asked Fenrir.

Harry shrugged and didn’t answer.

Fenrir snorted and stretched under the warming rays of the sun. Being underground for over a year had gotten extremely claustrophobic and Fenrir had missed the sun, although he would never admit it. Werewolves were nocturnal creatures – to let your skin darken like a human was disgraceful – but at that moment, Fenrir didn’t care; he had a beautiful young pup to distract him from the violation of his own rules.

“Did they kick you out then?” Fenrir asked, scratching at his stomach.

“No,” said Harry. “Snape was being a bastard.”

“How could you tell?” Fenrir asked.

The boy’s answering cheeky grin made Fenrir want to grab him by the scruff of the neck, throw him to the ground and wrestle under the sun for hours until the boy lay limp in his arms. Fenrir didn’t of course – Lupin and the rest of the clan would surely come pouring out of the house waving their sticks, and the boy would once again be terrified of him. So Fenrir kept his paws to himself, contenting his libido with long penetrating stares to the boy’s slender yet resilient form. Fenrir’s cock twitched and he scratched at himself, causing Harry to redden and look at the ground. Fenrir smiled, showing his teeth.

“Want me to give him a talking to?”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Don’t, or he’ll be even worse.”

Fenrir’s eyebrows furrowed. “He’s saying things about me then?”

“No, he just treats me like I’m stupid,” said Harry.

Fenrir chuckled. “Coming into my cave without backup was stupid.”

Harry’s bottom lip puffed out slightly. “Don’t you start too.”

“Maybe you should just admit that what you did was foolish,” said Fenrir, stretching his back and groaning as his spine twisted. He heard a scuffle and opened his eyes to see Harry standing on the bottom stair, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“I came out here for a break from all that, but I guess I’m not going to get it so I’ll just go back in.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” said Fenrir, grabbing for a skinny ankle. Harry tried to kick his hand away, but Fenrir was too strong – he gave a hard tug, and Harry yelped and fell to his knees. Fenrir grinned and rolled over the boy. It looked like he’d get his wrestling match after all.

As far as matches go, it wasn’t a long one. Fenrir overpowered Harry easily, pinning the squirming boy underneath him. Fenrir could tell that Harry was angry, and his pack instincts took over. This was no different than some whelp who didn’t know his place and Fenrir had to show him who was in charge. He gave a warning growl, but Harry kept twisting, so Fenrir opened his jaws and covered the back of Harry’s neck with his teeth, applying what he considered to be gentle pressure. Harry gasped. Fenrir couldn’t help it – he bit down harder, increasing the whimpers that streamed past Harry’s lips. Fenrir began to grind his swelling cock against the boy’s ass and he reached a clawed hand underneath the boy’s thigh to grab at his denim-clad cock.

 

* * *

 

Harry lay docilely under the powerful man as he was fondled roughly, gasping as teeth scraped against his neck. Overwhelming heat traveled through his body as warm breath ruffled his hair and a hard erection pressed against him. He knew he shouldn’t just lie here like this, knew that he should call for help, but he didn’t. Instead he arched his back as much as he could, pressing into the inviting heat, spreading his thighs to accommodate the insidious hand. The way Fenrir touched him was overwhelming, as though Fenrir thought he could do whatever he wanted with him. Harry reminded himself that he probably did. It was such an invasive, possessive touch, and it drove all worries and responsibilities from his mind.

The door flew open and Remus came charging down the steps, wand drawn and bellowing. Mortified, Harry buried his face in his arms and above him Fenrir groaned in frustration and rolled away.

“Get off him, you evil bloodthirsty _dog_!” Remus screamed, eyes huge and furious.

Fenrir snarled and backed away, body in a low position as though he was getting ready to attack. Harry quickly sprang to his feet and stood between them, arms spread to prevent any movement.

“Remus – don’t, it’s okay, I’m fine –”

“You’re bleeding, Harry, you’re not fine!”

“Only a bit,” said Harry, wiping at the back of his neck.

“It doesn’t matter how much!” Remus shouted. “The point is he hurt you, and I told him that I would not tolerate it! Not for one minute, not for one second!”

Fenrir rolled his eyes. “I was just giving him some discipline, Lupin…I thought you and Snape would appreciate that.”

“It is not up to you to decide how to discipline him, Greyback!” Remus shouted, wand still drawn. “You’re not in charge around here!”

“Well you weren’t doing a good job. Someone needed to step in,” said Fenrir, drawing himself up to stand at his full height.

“Don’t tell me how to handle this –”

“Maybe you should just hand him over,” said Fenrir, smiling nastily. “I’ll save you the trouble, take the stress off your back –”

Harry shoved a fist against Fenrir’s chest. The werewolf glanced down at Harry’s warning glare, assessing him for a few seconds, then laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he, Lupin?”

Remus glared and strengthened his grip on his wand.

“Fine,” said Fenrir shortly. “I’ll leave you to it. But I’m coming back tonight to finish what we started, pup.” Fenrir leaned down and nipped at the side of Harry’s neck, gave his backside a hard slap, then turned and headed for the trees.

Harry watched him go, glad that a fight had been avoided. He kept his eyes on Fenrir’s retreating back as long as he could, wanting to delay the lecture that was sure to hit him as soon as he shifted his gaze.

“Harry,” he heard Remus say quietly behind him. “Harry, I don’t ever want to see anything like that again.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Don’t play innocent, Harry. And look at me,” said Remus sternly. Harry slowly turned and looked up at Remus, ready to see a reprimanding frown. He was shocked when he saw his former professor’s face twisted in anguish.

“Harry,” Remus began, a bit choked. “Harry, you’re all I have.”

Harry stared, unable to think of anything to say or do.

“I – I’ve lost James and Lily – Sirius – if anything happened to you… anything that I could have prevented…”

Harry shifted his feet awkwardly. Remus had never really talked like this before. He had been stern or reminiscent when mentioning his parents, but had never shown this aching grief and desperation.

“I just can’t lose you too.”

“You – you won’t…,” said Harry weakly. Honestly, he couldn’t promise anything of the sort, but he was willing to say anything to appease Remus.

Remus shook his head.

“I know I can’t know that,” said Harry, interrupting Remus before he could start. “But I can promise you that you won’t lose me to him – to Greyback.”

Remus shook his head again, then raised his sad eyes to Harry.

“I promise,” said Harry more firmly.

Remus smiled tightly, his brown eyes betraying his doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song "River" by Bishop Briggs…lyrics are great for this story…


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